Going Solo
by Caro June
Summary: Han, Luke and Leia are captured during a mission & imprisoned by Imperials on a backwater planet, called Avaya. Han was injured in the fight where they were taken captive and the story begins 3 to 4 days after they were captured. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_ A/N __ –__ Here __ is my second story. Again, it will be basically a__n adventure, hurt/comfort story – with poor Han being the one who mostly gets hurt. It is set within six months after the Rebellion blew up the first death star – so somewhere between A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back. _

_ The story premise is this: Han, Luke and Leia have been captured during a mission and imprisoned on an out of the way "backwater" planet, as Han refers to it, called Avaya. The Avayans are a somewhat primitive humanoid people, who are in the process of rebuilding their major city, after a recent natural disaster too place . The planet had previously been discovered by the Empire, who have taken it over, and are now "assisting" the Avayans in their building projects. The captives are being held in an underground facility, where their job is to quarry rock from beneath the surface to the building sites above ground, under heavy guard. Han was injured in the fight where they were taken captive and the story begins 3 - 4 days after they were captured. _

_ As with my last story, it is very relationally driven, and will explore the developing dynamics between the main characters – especially Han , Leia and Luke. The story will also feature Chewbacca and Wedge Antilles and probably a few other characters in the later chapters. _

_ I don't own anything Star Wars, except the evil characters __ that lurk in my brain. I hope you enjoy this story! _

_ I'll try to post a chapter often. ** Reviews will obviously make me**** write faster! **_

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** Going Solo**

**Chapter One **

Solo woke up to blinding pain in his left arm. "Uhh," he groaned, not really aware of where he was or what was going on. "Wher' 'm I?" he managed to gasp out, finally getting his eyes open. He saw Leia hovering over him anxiously, but before she could respond, a rough voice answered for her. "Shut up Solo, where you are don't concern you none. What's gonna happen next, now that's what ya' oughter' be concerned about." The man behind the voice obviously thought that what he'd had to say was funny. His harsh laughter got through the fog in Solo's head enough to give him a hint of what was going on.

In a flash, he remembered the recent past. They, Luke, Leia & him, were in a prison. He'd been injured during the fight that had happened when they were first captured. Someone had shoved a knife through his arm. In fact, he was pretty sure it was the guard who'd spoken a moment earlier. What was his name? Weins. That was it. He had a score to settle with him—not only had he sliced his arm open from below his elbow almost to his wrist, but he'd pushed the tip of the knife all the way through his arm, before yanking it free. Han wasn't sure, but he thought maybe part of the knife had broken off inside. The whole thing was a little fuzzy; all he knew for sure was that he'd passed out as the knife was being pulled free. He also knew Weins had been the guard who had hassled them the most, delighting in kicking and punching Han, or the others, whenever one of them didn't respond quickly enough to any of their captor's command.

Solo remembered hurting worse every day of the three or four days they'd been here, and he knew his arm was infected. Though the days had taken on an unreal quality, and sort of all ran together for him, he thought he could remember waking up (this morning?), and trying to meet the daily quota of rocks they were being forced to haul. But he wasn't quite sure what had come next. Everything was blurry at best. However, as the seconds went by, things came into focus more and more sharply. He tried to sit up, realizing he was flat on his back on a hard concrete floor, but felt his vision dim as he moved his arm in the attempt. Next he knew, he heard Luke's voice, admonishing him to stay still. That seemed a good plan; at least for the moment and he let his head fall back, closing his eyes against the sudden nausea that was now vying for his attention.

As he was waiting, he felt something cool pressed against his neck and heard the hiss of an infuser discharging something into his veins. It didn't take him long to recognize what it was. Han Solo remembered the feeling of the stimulants the Imperials used against prisoners all too well. Snarling, he opened his eyes and glared at the nearest guard. "What'd the hell you do that for?" His eyes, vision crystal clear now, shifted away from the grinning visage of the guard, over to Luke and Leia, who seemed startled at the sudden change in their pilot friend. Han realized they had probably never felt an Imperial stimulant before, and was glad for them. Even if you weren't already injured, it wasn't a pleasant sensation, causing nausea and often vomiting, a severe headache, and heightened sensory perception, as well as keeping the victim awake for 48 – 72 hours, depending on the dosage. If you were already hurt, it was pure hell.

"Well, Solo," Weins drawled, "we're about to treat that arm, and we wanted to be sure you were awake to enjoy it." Before he could respond, Han was jerked upright. His right arm was grabbed and pulled behind his back, while his left was yanked forward, and laid on a bench in front of him. Solo gulped back the cry of pain, and clamped his teeth shut, knowing that there was nothing he could do at this point to stop what was coming. He raised hate-filled eyes toward their captors and glared, but refrained from saying anything, instead lifting his head a little higher, determined not to give them the satisfaction of hearing him suffer if he could possibly avoid it.

Leia was staring at him with tears in her lovely eyes, but she had enough sense not to say anything, knowing there was nothing she could do to forestall the inevitable. Luke, however, was outraged at the treatment his friend and sometimes hero was receiving and took two quick steps forward, grabbing at Weins' who was holding Han's injured limb in place. "No, Luke!" Han managed to get out, "Forget it." The guard snarled, lunged to his feet and slugged Luke across the face, knocking the young Jedi off his feet, where he collapsed in a corner. Han shook his head and just muttered "Stupid kid." The guard returned to Solo, grabbing his arm all the harder. "Solo," he growled, you'd better try and keep your little friends under control or I won't be responsible fer treatin' you nice and kind like we'd planned."

Weins laughed at his own joke and motioned toward the cell door. It opened and a man with a doctor's bag entered. Leia looked up hopefully, wanting to believe Han was finally going to get the medical help he needed so desperately, but when she looked into the doctor's eyes, she knew differently. Glancing back at Han, she could read dread in his expression. However, Han just sighed and motioned toward Luke with his head.

Leia offered him a tremulous smile and moved to Luke who was slowly sitting up and shaking his head, trying to clear it. She helped him to his feet, but shook her head and placed a restraining hand on his arm when he caught sight of Han, and again tried to go to the rescue. "No Luke, it won't help," she murmured. Luke looked around, trying to see anything that he might use to go to Solo's aid, but finally slumped against the wall in defeat, as he noted that the four guards, plus the "doctor" were all heavily armed.

"Solo," Weins sneered. "This here is our prison, ah, 'doc' shall we say. He's going to take care of that arm for you. When you passed out today, we realized you needed his attention. Obviously, if yer too sick to stay on your feet, yer no good to us, so Doc Simms here will fix you right up. Oh, you might want to be aware that his wife and son were on the Death Star, and he holds you all personally responsible for its destruction; but I'm sure he won't let that influence his treatment of you." With another shout of laughter, Weins pressed Han's arm tightly to the bench and said, "He's all yer's doc."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: These first few chapters are going to be mostly about the "hurt" part of the hurt/comfort, but I promise after that, the story will be more relational and active in nature, so please hang in there. The next chapter is almost ready - and reviews make me write faster! Thanks!_

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**Going Solo**

**Chapter Two**

Simms took out a med scanner, and much to Leia's surprise, started running it not over Solo's wounded arm, but over his torso instead. Han was halfway up on one knee, his right arm still forced behind his back. He had taken several blows and painful kicks over the past few days, most when he had either fallen or been pushed down, and some when he'd tried to shield Leia or Luke from any punishment. He was pretty sure at least one rib was broken, courtesy of Weins' boot, and several others cracked. However the increasing pain in his arm had kept him from focusing much on his ribs. Simms waved the scanner over his left side, then his right, and paused, frowning at what it showed. "Weins," he said in a flat voice, "you'll have to find some other method of motivating this man. Another kick like the last 2 or 3 and you'll puncture a lung. He's no good to us dead, at least not yet." Somehow Han didn't find that reassuring at all. Weins just continued to sneer, while he held Han in place. "Broken?" the other guard asked. "Yes. One on the right is broken and 3 on the left are cracked. You people need to be a bit more careful or you'll end up doing all the work yourself."

Han listened to this exchange with interest. One might almost think this doctor cared about his welfare, by his words. However, one look into the man's eyes, and he knew differently. The doctor stared into Han's face for a long moment before continuing the exam, and Han saw nothing but a touch of insanity and cold fury, along with the promise he would make Solo regret the destruction of the death star—and probably regret that he had ever been born for that matter. Han returned his gaze steadily enough, even though his arm was already throbbing in time to his heartbeat, which was increasing rapidly.

Simms finally looked away and ran the scanner over the rest of Han's body, which he endured stoically. Luke and Leia watched, knowing how he hated being examined by doctors under the best of circumstances, and this was far from that. Finally Simms was finished and said, "The prisoner is malnourished, exhausted, has some broken bones and bad bruises, and is weak from a great deal of blood loss. None of that needs to be treated at this time—they are not currently life threatening injuries. I will examine his arm now, and treat it accordingly."

Simms demeanor changed as he bent over Han's left arm and waved the med scanner over it. He seemed almost gleeful at the prospect of what was coming next. Han stiffened and again glanced at Luke & Leia, willing them to stay silent and not to interfere. He knew there was nothing they could do to help him and that the guards would use any excuse to punish them, knowing it would make Han feel worse if he couldn't do anything to protect them. Han knew he had shown too much concern for them during the past few days, but had not been able to stop himself. Leia raised her head, as if she somehow sensed what Han wanted, and without thinking about how she knew, she nodded in his direction. She calmly whispered something to Luke, who straightened, looked sorrowfully at Han and sighed; then they let their tired bodies slide down the wall and just sat together, determined not to add anything to Han's suffering by their behavior.

"Solo," Simms said. "I see that part of the knife is still in your arm. Looks like it lodged in a bone. That explains some of the infection, and most of the pain. Of course, the working conditions aren't conducive to healing either. However, that isn't my concern. I'm going to operate to remove the knife tip. We won't be using any anesthesia. Normally, you would pass out, however, with the drug Weins gave you earlier, I have been assured you won't. I want you to know how glad I am to hear that."

Simms' tone of voice had barely changed; it remained flat and emotionless, he could have been discussing the weather. But Han knew he was anything but indifferent. If he held Solo responsible for his wife and child's death, then Han knew he was in for a very rough time. He just hoped he could keep his mouth shut during most of it; he hated for Luke and Leia to have to hear him yell.

Simms continued, and this time Han could have sworn he heard a hint of pleasure in his voice. "I'm going to sterilize my scalpel and will dig the knife tip out, and then I'll clean and cauterize the wound on both sides of your arm. Captain Solo, I want you to know that this procedure should cause you a great deal of pain. If it doesn't for some reason, you'll be sure to let me know, won't you?" This time, there was no mistaking the amusement in Simm's voice. Han didn't have time to dwell on it however, as Weins ripped his sleeve away from the shoulder of his shirt, and pulled away the bandaging Luke had managed to scavenge and apply the day before. By now, the drug Han had been given before was in full swing, and even the limited jarring his arm took from Weins' movements caused more pain that it should have. The Corellian sighed and ducked his head slightly; he knew it was going to be a long afternoon.

Turning from where he had heated his scalpel with a laser flame, Simms wasted no time in getting started. He pulled a small stool next to where Han's arm was stretched out and held firmly in place by Weins. Running the scanner over it once again, Simms glanced at Han's already white face and smiled. It was an evil and vicious smile and made Han's already racing heart almost stop. Leia leaned closer to Luke, closed her eyes and placed a hand over her mouth, already sick with worry over what was about to happen. Luke didn't know if he could watch the brutality going on in front of him and dropped his head until it was almost touching his chest. However, a gasp from Han brought both of their heads up and they found that though they didn't want to, they couldn't take their eyes from the Captain; almost as though if he was going to have to suffer through this, the least they could do was watch.

Simms pressed the scalpel blade to the top of Han's arm, and with one more wicked smile, sliced deep into the tissue. Han felt the nausea rise simultaneously with the blinding pain and couldn't restrain a gasp and moan. Knowing there was much worse to come, and seeing Luke and Leia's response, he determined to keep as quiet as he could.

Only scant seconds later, however, Han wasn't at all sure of his ability to keep still. Simms dug the tip of the scalpel into his arm and began feeling around, apparently trying to locate the piece of the knife by feel alone. Solo knew the scanner would show its location immediately, but obviously Simms had no intention of doing anything the easy way. Solo couldn't contain the grunts of pain that resulted from the digging, and had to press his lips tightly together to keep from throwing up on the spot. He risked a glance at his arm and was immediately sorry. Already blood was welling up and pooling on the bench. Though he knew he wouldn't pass out, thanks to the stimulant, there was nothing to keep him from bleeding to death, and rather quickly by the amount of blood he saw. Han managed to see a bit of humor in the situation, knowing how irate his captors would be if he had the nerve to die on them before they finished their fun.

However, that was not to be either. Before he had even finished formulating the thought, Simms withdrew the knife and reached into the bag at his feet. Wiping his hands on a cloth, he drew out a self tightening tourniquet and placed it around Han's arm, just above the elbow. "Wouldn't want you to die on us too soon, Solo," was all he said as the mechanism tightened and slowed the blood flow. Han glanced ruefully toward Leia and managed a ghost of his grin as he murmured "Now, why would I want to go and do a thing like that?" Unfortunately, he let his eyes linger on the beautiful princess a few seconds too long, so was unprepared for the next slice into his flesh. This time, a cry escaped his lips before he could control it and sweat poured from his face.

From then on, it was all he could do to keep from screaming out loud. He could hear his moans and occasional gasps and grunts and as hard as he wanted to control his expressions of pain, more and more it was beyond his ability to do so. He found he couldn't look in the direction of the Princess and Skywalker, the concern and sympathy on their faces and in their eyes was too much for him. More often than not, he closed his eyes or studied his feet, choosing to look anywhere but at the activity taking place on the bench. After what seemed hours of feeling Simms dig the scalpel around, he heard the "doctor" say "Brace yourself Solo, now comes the fun part."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N – Thank you for the reviews – please keep them coming – they encourage me to write more and faster. This is the last chapter before the "real" action starts. _

**Going Solo**

**Chapter Three**

Han looked up in alarm and saw the scalpel being used to hold one edge of the open wound down, while Simms used forceps to reach in and clamp onto the piece of the knife that was now protruding slightly. Simms slowly started to withdraw the metal, moving it slightly from side to side to loosen it from its embedded position in the bone.

The excruciating pain that followed made the earlier digging around feel like nothing. Solo couldn't stop from uttering a loud cry, before burying his teeth in his lower lip. He was gasping and panting with the pain, sweat pouring into his eyes. Each time the doctor moved the knife tip, he felt his vision dim. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he heard Leia's soft sobbing and Luke's demands that they stop. He wanted to reassure them, but knew if he opened his mouth he would scream out loud. So he endured it the best he could, clamping down hard until he felt his teeth cut into his lip. He closed his eyes and the muscles on his right arm and hand stood out like cords as he clenched his fist. In response, the guard holding his right arm just tightened his grip and yanked it a little higher up his back.

Even though logically Solo knew he wouldn't pass out, it felt like he was about to and suddenly he knew that at the very least he was going to be sick, probably violently sick. Though he wouldn't have minded in the least throwing up all over Simms and the guards, he figured that wasn't a particularly good plan, knowing it wouldn't gain him any points. "Gonna' be sick," he managed to gasp out, looking frantically around for something, anything to throw up into.

It was amazing how quickly the guards and the doctor moved away from the Captain. Jumping away from the wounded man, Weins managed to grab a bucket and thrust it in front of Solo. Leia also moved quickly, jumping up and coming to Han's side in time to hold his head as he began to forcefully lose the contents of his stomach. At the same time, Luke leapt to his side and steadied his arm, keeping it from moving too much as Han retched repeatedly.

When he was finally finished, Leia gently lifted his head and wiped his mouth with the tail of her shirt and for just a moment, he let his head rest again her. "Get that mess away or he'll be wearing it," Weins stated bluntly. Sighing again, Leia gave Han a last gentle caress and moved back to the wall as Luke tried to smile at his friend, then lifted the bucket with its noxious contents and placed it in a corner of the cell. Not knowing what else to do, Luke went back over to Leia and sat beside her, placing an arm protectively around her shoulders as they settled down.

Han glanced in their direction and was astounded by the force of a different kind of pain that went through him at the sight of Luke's arm resting so companionably around the Princess. He lowered his head for a few seconds, realizing he had never taken the time to really analyze his feelings about the Princess, or in fact about why he and Chewbacca were still with the rebellion. Han's reputation as a loner, except for his Wookie friend and loyal bodyguard, was well established all over the galaxy, especially in the smuggling circles.

He could tell himself that working for the Alliance was just another kind of smuggling, and in his more honest moments with himself, would even admit that he felt a certain kind of pride in knowing his smuggling and piloting skills were the best the Rebellion had. But pride didn't satisfactorily explain to himself, or his partner, why they kept on doing missions and runs for the Alliance, a full six months after the death star had been destroyed. "And it sure ain't for the money," Solo silently snorted to himself. Which left him considering a very uncomfortable dawning realization, if it wasn't his pride or money—could it possibly be for the Princess? That thought brought him full circle, and once more he glanced toward the two young people huddled in the corner, and shook his head slightly, trying to shake his unexpected reaction to her sitting within the comforting circle of Luke's arms.

Because of this, he was slightly distracted from what came next by his perusal of his friends, and therefore, unprepared, he let another cry of agony escape him when Weins roughly pinned his wounded arm in place. Simms allowed a small smile to cross his face, pleased at the amount of suffering he'd be able to inflict on the Corellian so far. Though intellectually he knew it was the rebel alliance that was behind the destruction of the death star, he was Corellian himself and therefore, the thought that someone from Corellia had had anything to do with his family's death made him completely irrational. The truth was, Simms had lost his mind shortly after the deaths and no amount of logic or reasoning was going to help Solo.

"How do you like the treatment so far, Solo?" he asked conversationally, as he plunged the forceps back into the open wound. "If it isn't painful enough for you, I can remedy that, you know." Simms viciously grabbed at the piece of metal he had been working loose before Solo's untimely bout of sickness, and twisted it, pulling it out slightly before once again stopping. Solo was unable to speak, the blood was roaring in his ears and his whole universe was centered on the red hot epicenter of pain that used to be his left arm. Solo threw his head back and bared his teeth, gulping in agony. "Ahhh, damn you," he cried out, unable to keep silent. He flailed around with his right arm, which the other guard failed to hold onto tightly enough and managed to land a hard punch to the back of Simms' head.

Chaos broke out. Simms fell forward, losing his grasp on the forceps, which went skittering across the floor. Weins let go of Han's left arm in an effort to keep Simms from pitching to the floor. The other guard grabbed at Han again, who had hunched over after letting the punch fly, and was now on both knees, cradling his left arm in his right and trying not to moan out loud. Luke had jumped to his feet and joined in the fray, swinging punches left and right, even landing a few before he was quickly restrained. Leia immediately went to Han's aid, making soft soothing sounds and gently trying to help him hold his wounded arm steady.

Han barely registered any of this, he was trying not to be sick again and wanted only to be able to pass out or die. He looked up in alarm, however, when he felt Leia torn away from him and heard a vicious slap and her cry of pain. Simms, now recovered from Han's punch, had decided the best way to get control back was to distract Solo and the easiest way to do that was to hurt someone he cared about. Seeing Han's head snap up and the hot anger that filled his eyes, Simms smiled and slapped Leia again. Luke tried to come to her rescue, but was held firmly in place by two guards. Solo however, was on his feet in a flash, and somehow managed to place both hands around Simms' neck, yanking backwards with a strength he should not have had.

Simms pulled at the hands that were even now starting to cut off his blood supply and almost panicked, when he suddenly felt the Corellian's hands fall away and turned to see Solo sprawled out on the floor. Weins was standing over him, laser rifle in his hands. Obviously, he had struck Solo a cruel blow to the side of the head in his effort to get him away from Simms.

"He'd better not be dead," Simms gasped out, rubbing his neck where Solo had choked him. He glared at Weins who quickly stooped down to assess the damage. "Nah, he ain't. I didn't hit 'em that hard. He's prob'ly out cold for awhile though. That imperial stim don't keep you awake when you get clubbed. He'll come 'round in an hour or two, then you can finish up, unless you want to just get it done?" Simms glared at Weins again, and then turned the wounded pilot over onto his back. He pulled his eyelids back one at a time and shone his penlight into the man's eyes. "He's out, alright. You hit him plenty hard. If you hadn't, he wouldn't have lost consciousness like that. Next time, just pull the bastard off me. Better yet, don't lose control again."

Simms got to his feet, kicking the unresponsive man a hard blow to his bad arm, then seeming to find satisfaction in that, he drew back and kicked him a few more times, this time in the side, apparently forgetting his own admonition to be careful of the man's ribs. Leia gasped when she heard the unmistakable sound of another bone snapping. That seemed to bring the doctor to his senses however, and he carefully lowered his booted foot from where he had raised it again. Looking down at the helpless man at his feet he said "We'll be back to finish when he's awake. In the meantime, I have some thinking to do. Keep him alive." This rejoinder was given guards and prisoners alike and brooked no argument.

Weins motioned to the other guards to leave and after checking through the doctor's bag on the floor and retrieving a second scalpel (obviously not wanting to leave anything that could be used as a weapon); he glared at the two remaining prisoners. "You heard the man." He used his foot to push the bag toward them, spilling its contents onto the floor. "Fix him up for us. . .so we can play with him some more." Weins smile was pure evil as he exited the cell without a backward glance.

Leia waited just long enough for the door to close, and then she rushed to Han's side, pulling his head onto her lap. Luke started going through the contents of the doctor's bag, looking for anything that could help his friend. "Damn," he said. "I wish they'd left the scalpel or something we could use to get that piece out of his arm while he's outs." Leia nodded, stroking Han's hot face. "I do too, but I'm sure they wouldn't let that happen. What is in there? Is there anything that's going to help him?"

Luke finished laying the items out, and together they examined what the doctor had left with them. There was bandaging, some antibiotic cream, another self-tightening tourniquet, some bottled sterile water, alcohol wipes and not much else. Just as Luke was reaching for the bottled water, intending to begin treating Han by flushing the wound with water, something glinting under the far end of the bench Han had been leaning on caught his eye.

"Hey!" he cried, ducking his head and scooting over closer to the bench. "What's that?" Luke reached his arm under the bench and pulled the object out. He met Leia's eyes, and smiled as they both realized that in the scuffle, no one had noticed that the forceps had been dropped.

"Let's see if we can get it out; Leia, you'll have to help." With a last soft brush of her fingers across Han's cheek, Leia eased his head off her lap. She grimaced when she saw the bloody smear left on her pants by the gash on the side of his head, and knew they'd need to treat that wound as well. Luke took Han's left arm and pulled it straight out, so it was at right angles to his body. Leia knelt beside it, and without being prompted, took the water from Luke, and opening the lid, poured it liberally over the wound which was still oozing blood, in spite of the tourniquet. After emptying over half the bottle, she then held Han's arm still and straight, while Luke cleaned it with the alcohol wipes.

Then, looking at her again, and shaking his head slightly, Luke murmured, "You ready?" At her nod, Luke checked the settings on the tourniquet, making sure it wouldn't loosen while they were working on Han's arm, and pulled the edges of the wound apart as far as he could. Leia then placed her hands on either side and held it open. With another sigh and a gulp, Luke bend his head over the wound, and with a much more gentle touch than the doctor had used, began carefully probing, trying to locate the piece of metal he knew was lodged in the bone. In just a few moments, he felt the metal tip graze against it. At the same time, Han's eyes fluttered, and he groaned, moving his head restlessly, as the pain penetrated even through his unconsciousness.

Leia whispered, "Shh, Han, easy. Try to be still; we're almost finished," and she prayed it was true. Han seemed to respond to the tone of her voice, even if he didn't comprehend the words and his movement ceased. Leia could tell he was on the edge of wakefulness, however, as his body began to gradually tense, the longer Luke probed the wound. Luke lips tightened as he was able to finally get a grip on the slippery fragment with the metal forceps, and he gently began to tug, hoping to ease it from the bone without doing more damage. Both he and the Princess let out breaths they didn't realize they were holding when it slipped free with relative ease. Leia looked at Han with alarm at the sound of the groan that issued from his lips, and the sudden way he jerked his arm. Fortunately, Leia still had a good hold on him, and kept him from pulling it away.

Luke released the metal knife tip onto the floor, and quickly moved to finish cleaning the wound before Han could regain full awareness. Using the rest of the water, he again flushed the open gash, and then cleaned it again with another alcohol wipe. Han's groaning and restless tossing of his head increased, and both Luke and Leia knew he was close to wakening. Finally, Luke spread the antibiotic cream liberally onto every part of the open wound, including the underside where the knife had punctured clear through. Then, with a nod at Leia to release her hold, he took Han's arm and held it up off the floor while she applied the bandaging. Last, Luke ripped off one of his own sleeves and they secured Han's arm to his chest, to keep him from moving it more than necessary.

Both were exhausted by the time they were finished tending to the Corellian. "We'd better readjust the tourniquet – can't risk it cutting of his circulation," Leia said, and Luke complied. "How's his head?" he asked. "Hard," in spite of the circumstances, Leia offered a quick, tight smile, and then started cleaning the gash on the right side of Han's head. Neither of them was surprised when his eyes flew open, and Solo jumped. Obviously confused, he nevertheless looked around, his eyes trying focus, and he managed to croak out Leia's name.

"It's ok Solo; we're both right here. And yup, we're ok. So shut up and let us finish fixing you up before our friends return," Luke responded before Han could agitate himself further. Sure enough, Han relaxed after that, and other than another moan as Leia pressed on the gash on his head to clean it, before wrapping another bandage around his scalp, remained quiet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Going Solo**

**Chapter Four**

**A/N – Okay, so I know it has been months and months since I've updated this story. I'm very sorry, but I promise I ****will**** finish it. **

**I am reposting Chapter 4 – with some corrections. And the good news? The rest of the story is complete and I will post a chapter every day or so until it is all up. Thanks to all who reviewed and marked the story for an alert. I'll try to do better in any future stories.**

**As always, I don't own anything Star Wars.**

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"**Going Solo" **

**Chapter Four**

It was close to 45 more minutes before Captain Solo returned to full awareness. He realized he was again lying prone on the hard floor, but this time, his head was cushioned on something soft. It only took him a minute to work out that it had to be Leia's lap; a glance around the cell revealed no one else in the room besides the three of them. And since Skywalker was pacing restlessly around the cell, that just left the Princess as his pillow.

Even though he knew they were in dire straits, Han couldn't resist raising his left eyebrow slightly, and tilting his head back, so he could see into his "pillow's" face. Leia was sitting with her eyes half closed; head leaned back against the hard concrete wall. She had one hand resting lightly on Han's shoulder, and the other was absentmindedly stroking his left cheek. Han grinned to himself, knowing he had to be one of the few to ever see the haughty princess with her guard down like it was right now. She looked almost dreamy, and he would have given nearly anything to know what was going through her mind at that moment.

Intent on asking her that very question, Han was disgusted when what he intended as his sexy voice just came out raspy and barely above a whisper. "Hey there," he managed to croak out through lips that were dry and cracked. "What's up?" Startled, because she had thought the Captain was still unconscious, Leia sat fully upright, rather abruptly. Han's head and arm were jarred in the process, and he sucked his breath in through his teeth. "Hey, watch it there. I was just askin'…" his voice trailed off as the movement reawakened all the pain receptors with a vengeance. Han had to gulp and swallow rapidly to keep control, as his arm throbbed anew, overriding the most of the other pains vying for his attention.

Luke stopped his pacing and came and squatted next to Han. "Hey, how ya' doing buddy?" he asked, peering closely at Han's arm, but not wanting to disturb it. "Been better," Han replied, knowing there really wasn't much else to say. "Where is everyone?" Han struggled to sit up, wanting to know what had happened. He suddenly remembered the imperial stim in his system, and narrowed his eyes, wondering just why he had been unconscious. "What time is it? How much time has passed? What happened? Why was I out? You guys all right?" He rattled questions off one after the other, all the while, his eyes darting around the room, trying to gain a sense of what had taken place.

Leia laughed softly, and helped Han finish sitting upright. "Take it easy, hot shot," she smiled at him. "As usual, everything is wrong, nothing much has changed, it's only been about an hour or so since our 'friends' left us, and you got conked on the head—that's what happened."

Han ruefully raised his right hand to his head and found the bump behind his ear. His memory was naturally a little fuzzy, but he vaguely remembered throwing a punch at the doctor and total chaos after that. He noted the fresh bandaging around his arm and some cloths strapped around his ribs as well. "You do all this?" he asked the two of them in mild astonishment. "Yes," Leia replied, "and if you know what's good for you, you'll stop moving around. I don't want you to undo all of our hard work." She took a quick check on his bandages and the tourniquet as she uttered these words, but leaned back again after satisfying herself all was as it should be.

"So," Han drawled, trying to keep the pain from tightening his voice, "Luke, have you had any success with any of your mumbo jumbo? Any magic messages or hope of rescue yet?" Han knew Luke had been trying to use his Jedi senses for the past several days, attempting to contact anyone who might be able to hear him. Luke stopped his pacing, which he had resumed when Han sat up, and considered his answer. "Nothing concrete," he admitted, "but I do think the base knows we're in trouble and Rieken and some of the others are bound to be looking for us."

Han just snorted. "Ya' think? We've been missing for how many days now? And since I took responsibility for the Princess on this mission, I know Rieken's looking for me, if for nothing better than to kick my ass."

Leia managed to look a little irritated and worried at the same time. "Speaking of kicking ass," she quipped, "I think we should take this time to come up with some kind of plan. We haven't been alone since we got here, and now would be the best time to plan our escape."

Han turned incredulous eyes toward the ever optimistic Rebel leader, and arched his eyebrows again. "Escape? And just how to propose that, your high-ness-ness? It ain't like we haven't tried before, and if I recall, all it got us was beat up." Leia lowered her head a little, knowing that their few attempts had resulted in nothing more than extra punishment for them all, especially the wounded Corellian, who, probably because he couldn't keep his mouth shut around their captors, seemed to be a favored target.

"I know Han," she replied, "but what choice do we really have? I've been able to check out some of the outer tunnels, and there are a few areas that aren't was well guarded as the inner ones. If we can somehow cause a distraction, we might be able to make a run for it. Anything has to be better than remaining here, watching you die. And if the Alliance has sent out search teams, we have a better chance contacting them outside the tunnels." Leia didn't like letting her concern for Solo show so much, but she wasn't able to keep it totally in check. "And besides," she finished a little triumphantly, "Luke's been able to use his powers more and more. You've been too out of it to notice, but gradually they've been returning, and he can provide us a lot of cover."

Skywalker had been supremely frustrated when he had discovered that his Jedi abilities seemed to be somehow dampened, and he had been able to do little more than read his captor's state of mind, not that that had been any great feat. Anyone who had eyes could see that they were simply intent on working their prisoners to death, caring little who died in the process. As he had continually pushed himself and tested his abilities, however, he had been rewarded with being able to do more and more. He was a little more confident of his ability to provide some protection, should they actually be able to make good on an escape attempt. What he worried about most was finding some sort of shuttle craft or ship that could take them off planet.

Han leaned his head back against the wall, fully awake and alert by now, thanks to the stim still running unchecked through his system. "Okay," he said carefully, considering all their options, "I agree—anything is better than just waiting around." Luke and Leia were both well acquainted with how much their pilot hated inaction, and were sure he'd been this complacent, only because he wasn't physically able to do much about their situation. But Leia also knew that while the time the stim was still ravaging him would be their best chance for an escape attempt. As much as she hated that thought of pushing Solo that hard, it was probably the only way he would be able to assist in their escape.

"So," Han asked, all business now that he seemed to have decided the best course of action was doing something. "How long before they return? Did they leave anything we can use as a weapon? How about we try tearing the bench apart and use it for clubs? Maybe we can overpower them when they first come in, they shouldn't be expecting that."

Luke knelt down beside the bench and turned it over. "It's pretty sturdy, if we can just get it apart, that might work." He worked at it for a few minutes, then made himself relax, closing his eyes and extending his senses outward until he was able to see and feel how all the bolts and various parts went together, making the bench one entity. Once he could do that, it was a simple process for Luke to make the bolts turn, and to Han's amazement, it simply fell apart in Luke's hands.

"I just ain't ever gonna' get used to seeing that," Han mumbled, even while grinning at Luke. "But good job kid. Now, can you tear it apart some more so we can make some clubs?" Both Luke and Leia bent to the task and soon had three pieces, two of metal and one of wood that would serve as crude weapons.

"And," Leia pronounced, "we have these too," and she held up the forceps they had used to remove the metal from Han's arm. Han looked surprised, then glanced at his arm and raised his eyebrows in question. "We found it under the bench," Leia replied to his unspoken question. "And yes, we got your arm fixed up, at least for now. We got the knife tip out and cleaned the wound. Simms won't have any excuse to torture you anymore." Han snorted, pretty sure Simms didn't need much of an excuse, but he ignored that thought and just shook his head.

"Leia, keep those on you, why don't you," Luke suggested. "If they even miss them, you look like the weakest one of us, and they're less likely to search you for a weapon. Besides," and here Luke managed an embarrassed grin as he peered at Leia's chest. "You have more, um, 'interesting' places to hid things than we do," he finished by jerking his head in Han's direction. Han raised his eyebrows again, and turned toward Luke, surprised by the farm boy's veiled sexual reference. It was the kind of remark Han would make, but he hadn't expected it from Luke. "Well, well, kid," he smirked at the younger man, "there's hope for you yet. Just keep hanging out with me and I'll teach you a thing or two about women."

Leia rolled her eyes, deciding to ignore both of them, although she was surprised that either of them could think her the least bit sexy in her present condition, with dirt everywhere, and her torn and filthy clothing. Little did she know that she was more appealing in her current state of dishevelment than when she was playing the regal Princess or the self assured and in control Rebel leader. Han at least, found her almost irresistible with the smudges of dirt on her nose and cheeks, and her clothes in tatters.

Luke smiled at the Corellian, glad that his spirits seemed up, even as he wondered how much of that was due to the meds. "Sure Han," he managed to make his voice sound like the two of them had some big conspiracy going on. "You know I practically worship the ground you walk on. Just keep telling me all about women, I've seen how successful you've been lately." Luke managed a wink that didn't even look to ludicrous on him.

Han scowled at Luke, but refrained from any comment. In truth, he couldn't have explained why he had suddenly stopped pursuing the women on the base. He knew they were interested in him, but he found himself inexplicably indifferent toward them. He thought back to a conversation he'd had with Chewie about that very issue only a few days before they'd left on this ill fated mission.

"_Why don't you want to go with he_r?" Chewie had questioned him, referring to the tall blond who had stopped by the Falcon to invite Han to dinner and then back to her room, for a little "one on one" instruction, as she had called it. Han looked up from the spanner he was using to tighten one of the bolts on his ever recalcitrant ship, and just shrugged his shoulders. "Duh no, Chewie, I just ain't interested. I guess she's not my type." Han winced as soon as he uttered those words, knowing he wouldn't get away with them.

"_Not your type_?" Chewie yowled back at him. "_Since when isn't tall, blond and beautiful your type? Not to mention available?" _he demanded, gesturing toward the woman who was even now approaching Wedge Antilles, apparently making him the same offer, and from the look on Wedge's face and his quick smile, evidently with much more success. Han stopped working on his beloved ship for a few moments to gaze at the woman and Wedge as they engaged in an animated conversation and then felt his eyes drawn another 20 feet farther down the tarmac, to where the beautiful Princess Rebel Leader stood in deep discussion with General Rieken.

Han shrugged his shoulders again and turned back to his work a few seconds later, but Chewie had seen where his gaze had ended up. He shook his massive head, chuckled and muttered to himself about Captains who couldn't make up their minds about women.

Han was drawn back to the present, and met Luke's eyes, chagrinned at being caught daydreaming. He cleared his throat, not enjoying the feeling of being self conscious and scowled to himself again, as he realized lack of self confidence wasn't his usual mode of operation. "Yeah, well anyway," he growled, "lets get this plan together before we have uninvited company again."

With that, the three of them hunkered down on the floor and began discussing their options, starting with being ready to take on their attackers the minute they returned, and working through what they would do in various scenarios if they were able to make good their escape. Finally satisfied with their plans, Han suggested Luke and Leia get some rest, noting that he was going to be awake no matter what they did, and the two of them could use any sleep they might be able to squeeze in.

Neither of them argued, and Luke stretched out on the floor, cushioning his head on his arm and soon dropped off to sleep. Leia stayed seated next to the Captain, much to his pleased surprise and leaned her head against the wall. Han waited until he felt her relax and then used his good right arm to guide her head first to rest on his shoulder; then as he felt the rest of the tension leave her lithe body, he gradually eased her down until she was asleep on his lap, this time letting him serve as her pillow.

Remembering how she had softly been stroking his cheek as he'd awakened earlier, he couldn't resist doing the same, and gently rubbed his finger along the length of her jaw, marveling at how soft her skin was. Her saw her eyes flutter and heard her long drawn out, shuttering sigh, and found himself softly crooning to the princess, murmuring that it was ok, that she should just rest. He was rewarded by having her completely relax against him.

Han wasn't sure how much time passed this way, and even though he remained in constant pain, ever shifting around trying to ease the pressure on his ribs and arm, he found he was enjoying the peaceful moments, just watching the girl on his lap—no woman—he corrected himself, sleep. He was so used to being on his own, "Going Solo" as Chewie liked to call it, that this feeling of needing someone, and having them need him was hard to adjust to.

So it was with great regret that he heard footsteps and noise in the corridor some time later and realized the momentary respite had surely come to a halt. Gently he shook Leia's shoulder and called to Luke at the same time. "Hey kid, wake up. It's show time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Going Solo**

**Chapter 5**

Luke rose up slowly, disoriented for just a moment. However, it was with great delight that he realized he was completely aware of who was on the other side of the door. He had no idea if it was the extra rest, or just time passing since the trauma of their capture, but for the first time in days, he felt the force completely alive all around him, and he felt whole. Luke had not even realized how disconnected and incomplete he had felt, until the force returned with all its intensity.

Quickly he looked over at Leia and Han, and noting they were already in their places, ready for the moment the door would open, he whispered urgently, "There's one extra person. I can sense Wiens; the doc, the other guard and someone else. Not sure…can't get a good read. It's a female though, but not human. Be ready." And with that Luke took his spot, squatting next to an apparently still unconscious Solo. He made a show of reaching for the Captain, turning his body so his back was partially toward the door. In reality, he was holding one of the metal clubs tightly, and using the force to hold himself in readiness to spring the moment Leia gave the signal.

Solo was sprawled on his less injured side, his head resting on his right arm, which was curled slightly beneath him; his back to the door. He looked to be totally insensible, but was clutching the other metal club firmly in his uninjured hand. Leia was standing a few feet away from him, leaning against the back wall, her left hand lifted as if to scratch her chest. The fingers on that hand barely grasped the forceps that were safely hidden in one of her "interesting" places, and her right arm was dangling down, slightly behind her body, shielding the wooden club clasped firmly in that strong hand. She never took her eyes from the door; waiting to see who would enter first. If the first person through the door was unarmed, she would simply call out "Now!" and all three of them would spring into action. If a blaster came through the opening first, she would cough slightly, indicating they should wait for a more opportune moment.

The handle on the door turned slowly, and the door inched open. Han could feel his muscles bunching tightly; he was more than ready for some action, having spent so much time in forced inactivity, while Leia and Luke had slept. Because he had been wide awake, his mind had not stopped racing. He told himself that he was so tense now simply because he was anxious for all of them to make their escape; denying the underlying cause of his restlessness. In all actuality, while he had sat in the quietness of the cell, with the princess' head pillowed on his lap, he hadn't had all that much to occupy his thoughts except to go over and over their escape plans. Since their plans were relatively simple—overpower the guards and make a break for it, that hadn't taken up much of his time.

Instead, to his great annoyance, he had found his mind wandering repeatedly to various encounters he and Leia had experienced over the past months. Without analyzing it much, he had relived their first meeting, experiencing again the slight shock at how small and how determined the beautiful Princess had been. He remembered his surprised admiration for her resolve in getting them off the death star, and had to chuckle and shake his head when he thought of how annoyed he'd been at her as she had taunted him into following her into that garbage chute. And he found his mind would dwell for long moments on how she had felt in his arms when the walls had suddenly stopped closing in on them, and they realized they would live, if only for a little while longer. He considered how taken aback he'd been when she had impulsively thrown her arms around him, and how delighted he'd been to lift her up slightly, hugging her in return and celebrating life with her.

Han had ruefully shaken his head, listening as she sighed with pleasure and snuggled a little closer to him, as he thought about the ridiculous ceremony following the destruction of the death star. He remembered her eyes glowing with pleasure as she'd bestowed the metals on Luke and Chewbacca and had seen the unspoken reprimand in her eyes when he'd winked at her. And he hadn't missed the widening of those same eyes, when she looked at him after the repaired and restored R2-D2 had waddled out to join in the festivities, and he'd been unable to restrain his grin at finding the little robot safe and whole. He knew she sometimes saw through the tough guy exterior he tried to exhibit to everyone, and had realized with a start that was one of the things he loved best about her.

It had been at that moment Han had clamped down on his thoughts. "Loved about her?" he'd grumbled to himself. "I don't love anything 'bout anyone; especially some annoying little Rebel Princess." He cared about Chewie and knew they would protect each other with their lives. There were times he also understood, on some level at least, that he and Luke shared that same kind of bond. And it went without saying he would die for the Princess. But he would deny he loved anyone. Han had shaken his head and gone back to running escape scenarios over in his mind. He'd made his mind stay focused on the recent past and considered everything again and again. He'd been running through the various things that could happen in his head for what seemed like the 100th time, when he heard people in the hall.

It was at that moment he'd gently shaken Leia awake and he hadn't been able to resist a slight smirk while she stretched and yawned, then looked at him with a surprised little "Oh!" forming on her lips when she realized she'd been sound asleep on the Corellian's lap. "Enjoy your nap, your royal-ness?" he'd quipped in his usual fashion, determined not to reveal how much he'd enjoyed having her so near him. "I know I certainly did," and with that he waggled his eyebrows at her in a leering manner, then still grinning, had turned and nudged Luke with his foot, even as he stretched himself into position.

All of this flashed through Solo's mind in the few seconds it took Luke and Leia to get into position, and Han tensed even more as the door slowly opened. It wore on his nerves not to be able to see, but he knew he needed to keep his makeshift weapon hidden from sight. He relaxed ever so slightly as her heard Leia's faint cough, and closed his eyes.

Leia watched as the first thing through the slightly open door was a blaster; evidently their captors didn't trust them. She had to restrain a slight smile, knowing they were wise in that decision. She lowered her head a fraction and coughed slightly, and made a show of stretching and moving her head on her shoulders, as if trying to release kinks in her neck. Through eyes all but closed she carefully noted everyone's position as they entered the room, and almost couldn't keep from opening them wide when she realized who the fourth, unidentified person was.

While working the past days, Leia and Luke, and sometimes Han, when he wasn't too sick, had commented on the fact they rarely saw the Avayans, the beings who were indigenous to the planet they were captive on. They had seen a female Avayan only once, just after they had crashed-landed. Leia had been a bit disoriented, and hadn't really focused on her, so she was momentarily taken by surprise when the woman entered the cell.

Her beauty was simply breathtaking. Though small of stature, smaller even than Leia herself, she had an ethereal quality about her that Leai couldn't remember having ever seen before. Organa's first thought was, "Han isn't going to be able to take his eyes of her." Her second thought was much less clever. "I'm going to kill her." Leia blinked in astonishment, realizing where her mind had gone. She didn't have time to analyze the fierce feelings this woman's beauty raised in her; mentally giving herself a shake, she returned her thoughts to the problem at hand—when to give the signal to attempt the escape.

Luke felt a shock of surprise go through Leia when the Avayan woman walked into the cell behind the others. Then to his bewilderment, he felt an even stronger jolt of pure fury go through her; though it was tamped down so quickly he wasn't entirely sure he'd felt it at all. However, like Leia, he quickly banished all unrelated thoughts from his mind and focused on the problem at hand.

Wiens had been the first one into the cell, leading with his blaster. "Now ain't this a nice, cozy little group?" he quipped, obviously finding his own words quite amusing. "I trust you all had a pleasant, restful night?" His head constantly swiveled around the room, obviously checking for any signs of threat. Seeing nothing, he relaxed slightly, even as Luke turned his head to glare at the man. Wanting to stay in his earlier role of the angry farm kid without much experience, Luke growled back at him, "Sure, we all slept like baby chicks. Why don't you drop that blaster, and come over here, and I'll show you how rested I am."

Wiens just laughed, and glancing at the doctor who was immediately behind him replied, "Nah, not this time kid. We got other, more entertaining things ta' get to." Nodding at the doctor, he motioned for the second guard to help him roll the Corellian over. Just as he was reaching for Han's shoulder, and Leia was about to give the signal to attack, knowing that if they discovered the weapons, it would be too late, the Avayan woman quietly said, "Wait." To all three of the prisoner's surprise, the guards stopped. She continued in a voice that was low and somewhat musical. "I wish to speak to these prisoners. They are, after all, working for us, are they not?" She swept further into the room and met Leia's eyes first, then glanced briefly at Luke, dismissing him almost instantly. Her eyes rested for a longer moment on the immobile man on the floor, before returning her gaze to Leia.

"You are the leader, yes?" she enquired, although her question sounded more like a statement of fact. "You would be the one I should make my offer to." Leia was so surprised by this that she instantly reverted to her leadership role and without thinking it through, gave a cautious nod. "I would," she replied, nodding her head ever so slightly. "What offer are you referring to?" Leia glanced down briefly at Han as she spoke, and saw his eyes open just a slit, and his jaw tighten. Luke simply kept his hand on Solo's arm, casting his force awareness out, and trying to get a read on what might be happening. At first, he thought perhaps the Avayan female was offering them some hope. Very quickly, however, as he gently probed at her, he realized some of her intent. Though he couldn't figure out exactly what she wanted, he could sense that it could lead to disaster. Before he could stop himself, he turned toward Leia and said urgently, "No, Leia! Don't. . .don't even talk to her!"

All eyes instantly turned toward Luke, except Han's, who had to struggle with himself to remain still. The Avayan looked fully at Luke for the first time, her mouth slightly ajar, obviously surprised he had spoken. "Luke?" Leia questioned. "What is it?" Luke tried desperately to hold onto whatever he had sensed for a few short seconds, but it was gone and he was left with nothing more than a puzzled sensation, and a sure knowledge that the woman wasn't to be taken at face value. He had the presence of mind to lower his head slightly, and muttered "Ah, I mean, nothing. Sorry… ." his voice trailed off. The Avayan considered him for almost a full minute before turning back toward Leia. "Madam," she said, inclining her head respectfully. "I am sure you have some quality and breeding, in spite of the company you are keeping. I can tell by the way you carry yourself. I am here to make an offer to you, but I must speak to you without your slaves present."

At this Luke felt Han tense up under his hand, and he squeezed the pilot's arm slightly, willing him to remain still. "My slaves?" Leia repeated, suddenly realizing that Avaya must be a female run world. They had had little time to do reconnaissance on the plant prior to setting their badly damaged vessel down. When things had started to go badly, Han had tersely instructed them to find somewhere to land—anywhere. Leia still shuddered when she thought about how badly they had been wrenched around when they were flung so unexpectedly out of hyperspace, and knew if it had been any other pilot, none of them would have survived. She also knew the Captain was angry at himself for allowing them all to be captured; but Leia had been barely aware, and Luke and Han had both been unconscious for a short period. By the time they had roused enough to defend themselves and had begun to fight back, it wasn't really a fight, which was when Han had received the initial arm wound to begin with.

Leia inclined her head ever so slightly as she replied to the Avayan. "What do my slaves have to do with anything?" she asked. "And tell me your name," she demanded. "I don't do business with unknown associates." Luke, as always, was astounded by Leia's quick grasp of any situation and her ability to diplomatically play into it. The Avayan smiled slightly, and nodded back at Leia. "I am called Mical-Raee in your language. It would be difficult if not impossible for you to pronounce my name in Avayan. And you are Leia, and you have named your slaves, something we do not honor our slaves with. I however, will not speak their names as such a thing is a disgrace in my culture."

Luke looked fully at Leia at that, and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head; he could sense the woman was not being completely truthful, and that she desperately wanted to get Leia alone. He continued to sense malice, distrust and fear coming from her; surprisingly it was directed at the three of them, rather than their captors. Luke would have thought that anyone from a world which had been as thoroughly taken over as Avaya had would feel bitterness toward the empire, especially those from a female run world. It seemed to him the Avayan women would deeply resent their overbearing male counterparts.

Leia gave no indication she had seen Luke's movement, but she smiled in a rather superior manner at the other woman. Considering she had taken an instant dislike to her the moment she had seen her beautiful face, she had no difficulty believing Luke was trying to warn her. "That is a shame," she responded. "In my culture, we understand the value of all life. I am sorry, Mical-Raee, to learn how backward this planet is. Any offers or negotiations you care to discuss can be spoken of in front of my friends." Leia continued to stare directly at the woman, never taking the smile off her face; though it didn't come close to reaching her eyes.

Mical-Raee paused for a moment, obviously considering what Leia had said. After glancing first at Luke, then at the seemingly unconscious man still on the floor, she shrugged slightly. "No," she replied as she started to leave the room, pausing as her hand reached the door handle. "I did think, however, you might have been interested to learn there have been rumors of other aircraft, similar to the wreckage you were found in. If you had been, then perhaps we could have bargained. I can always use well formed slaves for my personal needs." She turned her eyes more fully on Han and cocked an impossibly arched eyebrow. "This one in particular, if he could be mended, might have a great deal of value. The little one; well, we have use for smaller men in the kitchens. Should you change your mind Leia, send for me, as I will not negotiate in front of non-persons." And with one more lingering look at Solo, she left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N – Thanks again for those who are still reading this story and who sent me reviews. In case you didn't notice, I did re-post Chapter 4. As noted there, this story is now complete and I'll do my best to post a chapter every day. There are 9 chapters._

_Again, apologize for the very long delay. There isn't any excuse, just life in general and a huge change in my personal and work life, and a major move. When I write my next story, I will finish it before I begin posting. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything Star Wars._

_So, please enjoy the rest of Going Solo and any reviews are appreciated._

**Going Solo**

**Chapter 6**

There was silence for a moment, as the door shut, then Wiens burst out laughing and glanced at Luke. "Well, that sure put you in your place, didn't it, ya' little runt?" Wiens obviously found his own sick humor more amusing that did anyone else. Dr. Simms simply shook his head, and motioned toward the second guard. As they again reached for Han, Wiens holstered his blaster and the doctor leaned over to set his medical bag on the floor.

Sensing this was probably the best opportunity they would have, Leia simultaneously reached into her shirt front again, grabbed the forceps and flung them at the doctor's exposed back, even as she shouted "Now!" She brought her right hand, which was suddenly full of the wooden club, around to strike Wiens on the side of the head. Luke jumped to his feet, helping to haul Han upwards. As if they had spent hours practicing the maneuver, Luke neatly ducked out of the Captain's way as Solo lunged outward with his makeshift weapon, catching the doctor across the side of his head and dropping him in his tracks, as he was frantically reaching around to try and dig the forceps out of his back. Luke couldn't resist a smile as he heard Solo mutter something about "How does that feel, you bastard."

Meanwhile, Luke hit the 2nd guard with a sharp uppercut to his jaw, felling him with one blow. Using a force assisted move, he continued spinning and his kick caught the startled Wiens full in the chest, slamming his head against the wall, where he slid down and came to rest on the floor. Luke quickly turned toward Han and steadied him, as Han leaned over, cradling his throbbing arm. For a moment, there was nothing but silence as the three realized they had managed to take out all of their assailants and that it had been much easier than they anticipated.

Then Leia looked over at Han, asking anxiously, "Han! Are you alright? You don't look so good." Han was gulping in great quantities of air, and doing his best to remain upright. Though he had been resting and knew the stim was still in full force, keeping him conscious, he felt wobbly and a little dizzy. "'M okay," he managed to gasp out, even as Luke was helping him move toward the wall, which he gratefully leaned on for support. "We don't have much time. . . gotta' get outa' here now." Even as he said that, Han wondered if he would just slow the other two down. He turned his pain-filled eyes toward Luke, intending to voice his opinion they should hightail it away without him when Skywalker grinned, slipped under his good shoulder and helped him stand upright again. Shaking his head, he good naturedly said, "Don't even think about it, Flyboy," using Leia's nickname to help take the sting out of the intended reproof.

By this time, Leia was down on one knee, relieving Wiens and the other guard of their weapons, strapping one on her own thigh and giving the second one to Luke. Han managed to look only slightly insulted that she didn't offer him a blaster, knowing he wouldn't be much good in a firefight and wanting the other two to have protection. Leia rummaged around the various pockets of their uniforms and came up with a knife, which she slipped inside her shirt, and a vibro-blade. This she tucked into the bandage Han still sported on his left arm.

"Let's go," Luke said, bending slightly to scoop up the doctor's bag, knowing they could use its contents. "Leia, you lead." Leia cautiously opened the door and checked into the darkened hallway. No one was in sight, and glancing back toward Luke, whose eyes were slightly unfocussed as he concentrated on making sure no one was waiting for them, she opened the door all the way and they stepped into the hall. Neither of them was surprised when Han murmured "Go to your right, that's the quickest way out of this building." Even though unconscious when he'd been brought into the cell, the Corellian's unerring sense of direction seemed to still be functioning. At Luke's slight nod, Leia turned right and with that the battered and weary troop started toward what they hoped would be freedom.

They traveled a fair distance, concentrating on putting as much space between them and their cell as possible. Han became more alert as they went along; realizing that eventually the stim would wear off and he'd pay for his exertions later, nevertheless he was grateful to be able to keep up for now. Eventually, he shook off their support and took the lead, instinctively leading them down one path, then another, winding around, and sometimes doubling back. He ignored Leia's muttered, "I hope you know where you're going," remarks and just kept moving.

In time, they made it to a passageway that obviously led up out of the tunnels they had been winding through, and Leia suggested a halt to rest a few moments. Luke was about to protest when he caught sight of Han's white face and instead nodded, then helped his friend to a sitting position. As he did so, he asked "What do you suppose that woman—what was her name? Michael-Ray-something? was going to offer, Leia?" Leia eased down beside the Captain and untied the makeshift sling, wanting to check on his arm after the recent activity. She frowned when she caught sight of the bandage which had been clean and white when they applied it, but now was dark and bloody. She started unwinding it, trying not to wince at Han's involuntary intake of breath, and the way he tried to jerk his arm away, reacting to her touch. "Easy there, Han. I'm not sure, Luke, but I don't think either you or our Captain here would have been particularly interested. What did you sense from her?"

Luke concentrated a moment, as he poked around in the medical bag, looking for supplies that would be helpful; then shook his head, a slight frown on his boyishly-handsome face. "She wasn't easy to read. But she wasn't telling us the truth, that's for sure; and she was afraid, and that surprised me." Han raised his eyebrows slightly at that. "Why would that surprise you kid? After what the Empire has done to her world, she **oughta**' be afraid of them. Hell, I'm not crazy about spending any more time with them, and **I** can defend myself…." his voice trailed off slightly as he took a moment to consider his current condition. "Ok, you know what I mean."

Luke snorted at Solo, deciding to refrain from making the obvious comment about his present injured state, and replied, "That's just it Solo. She wasn't afraid of **them**—she was afraid of us." Leia stopped at that, and turned to look at Luke. "Are you sure?" "Definitely," the young Jedi replied. "She loathed the empire, but her fear was all directed at us, most particularly at you, Leia. Me, she pretty much ignored, although she was very interested in Han."

Han had laid his head back against the dirt wall, and closed his eyes. Nevertheless he managed a slight, cheeky grin and retorted, "Course she was kid. All the gorgeous women are." Both men were surprised when Leia gave an extra hard tug at the bandage she had almost finished removing from Han's arm, jarring it more than necessary in the process. "Hey, your most-almighty-highness, watch it there." Han's eyes flew open and he looked at Leia, puzzlement evident on his face. When she didn't reply, he peered more closely at her and saw that her jaw was tightly clenched and she seemed genuinely upset. "Leia?" Han questioned. "What's up? What's wrong?" He reached his right hand up and tried to turn her face toward him so he could see her more fully in the dim light spilling down the corridor from somewhere above them. She jerked her head away from his hand and spat out, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong. Everything is just—just dandy."

"_Dandy?_" Luke muttered, looking on in astonishment, his hands pausing in his effort to open another bottle of the sterile water. "Leia, you don't use words like '_dandy'_! What **is** wrong with you?" With that, Leia sighed, and finished removing the bandage from Solo's arm, more gently this time, then sat back, first on her heels, then in a very undignified manner, on her petite rear end. She lowered her head and shook it slowly. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I'm tired. I'm worried. And she irritated me. Let's just leave it at that, okay?" She raised her weary eyes first to Luke, then to the surprised Corellian and gave a slightly apologetic smile. Han considered for a moment more, then started to shrug, thought better of it and just nodded. "Sure Leia, whatever you feel like. But what do you think she wanted?"

"I'm guessing she wanted you two, to put it bluntly," Leia replied, rising to her knees to take hold of Han's arm and steadying it as Luke started cleaning the wound again. "Although what she was going to trade, I'm not sure." Luke frowned at the injured limb, and sighed. "Han, I've got to work on this some more, it's getting worse. See how red it is? And it's got a lot more discharge then before. Sorry pal." Han simply turned his head away and closed his eyes. Luke exchanged another worried look with Leia, who silently handed him some alcohol-soaked gauze and shifted around, sitting down again, until she could ease Han's arm across her knees. "I'll hold it," she murmured. "Han, try not to move, the more you jerk your arm around, the more it's going to bleed." Han had loosened the tourniquet sometime while she and Luke had been sleeping, and it hadn't started bleeding again, until they had attacked their guards.

Han clenched his teeth yet again, wishing fervently that he didn't hurt so badly. He found it hard to focus and was afraid his lack of concentration might cost them all. He was usually able to remain stoic whenever he was hurting, unless it was a slight injury, then no one complained louder or longer than he did. This time however, he struggled against the pain, knowing it was worse because of the stimulant still in his system. He grimaced when Leia activated the tourniquet again, and when Luke started sponging the gash with alcohol wipes, he finally gave up and started rhythmically banging his head against the wall, and grunting slightly with each blow, anything to keep his mind off the pain in his arm. He knew the Princess and Luke were only trying to help him, but it was hard to keep from violently pushing them away, and keeping his arm still proved virtually impossible. Even so, he was inordinately glad he was the one in pain, rather than being the one who had to cause it.

Eventually he heard Leia sigh again and opened his eyes slightly, deciding to look at his arm. He'd been avoiding it on purpose ever since Luke had pointed out how bad it was. Luke had the wound fully exposed now, and Han couldn't stifle a moan and a spike of fear as he saw the red streaks beginning to shoot away from it in either direction. "Blood poisoning," he murmured, "just what I needed." Luke had paused when he'd seen the evidence of the worsening infection, and now he looked stricken. Sometimes Han forgot how young the kid really was. It was hard to remember that Luke and Leia were the same age; she often seemed years older, sometimes she seemed even older than Han himself did. He figured it was because of all the responsibility she'd had since she was just a child, and because of her incredible loss when Alderan had been destroyed in front of her. He was amazed how often he found himself wanting to shelter her, and just let her be a kid once in awhile. But he figured she'd never allow it. The Princess and one time Senator just might be the strongest person he'd ever met.

Shaking his head slightly, Han realized that train of thought was getting them nowhere, and sat up a little straighter, deciding the best course of action was to be his gruff, irritable self; maybe if he put on a good enough act, they wouldn't realize how scared he really was. He'd been around enough to see a lot of bad injuries over the years, and he'd seen people lose limbs or even die from similar wounds. "Well, what 'cha waitin' for? It's not gonna take care of itself. You gonna finish it, or do I need to do it for you?" Han scowled at Luke and motioned toward the medical bag. "There should be something in there that will help. Just get to it, will ya?"

Neither Luke nor the Alderanian were fooled for a moment by Han's act, but they decided to play along, and let him save face. Luke had caught the swift upsurge of fear through the force that Han had felt as he'd seen how bad it was, but knew Han wouldn't admit to it. "I got it Solo, don't get yourself all worked up," Luke replied. He took the antibiotic salve Leia offered and without even his usual apology to Han for hurting him, began spreading it liberally over the wound on both sides of Han's arm. He ignored Han's wince and the way his muscles tightened as Luke pressed harder and harder. Finally finishing, Luke held Han's arm as Leia wrapped it in clean bandages once again, then retied the sling. "Try and keep that clean this time, will you Han?" she admonished with a tired smile, patting him on his good shoulder. "Now rest a minute, while we try to figure out what to do next."

All three of the tired rebels fell silent, each thinking of their predicament and trying to decide on their best course of action. After only a few minutes, Han asked, "Did I hear that woman say something about other aircraft? Like the kind we crashed in? Might be Riekan sent out some reconnaissance missions. They knew the approximate course we were on, and when we didn't reach the check point, they probably would have started looking, don't 'ya think?" Han looked at Luke first, then Leia. Leia seemed started. "She did say something about that, didn't she? I was so focused on the fact this must be a female run world, and trying to figure out for sure what she wanted with you two, I almost missed that."

Luke had been leaning back with his eyes closed. He seemed to be in almost a trance like-state, but with a sudden jerk, he opened his eyes and grinned at both of them. "They are. I mean, they did." Han peered at him, and then shook his head. "Kid," he said, "you got to quit that. Remember," and he raised his hand and tapped Luke lightly on his forehead. "The rest of us got no idea what's goin' on in that Jedi-enhanced head of yours."

Luke concentrated for a few minutes more, then replied, "Yeah, umm, sorry. But I think you're right Han. I can sense at least two people who aren't from the Empire and definitely aren't Avayan. And they aren't too far away. Maybe only 5-6 kilometers. Shouldn't be too hard to find them, if the terrain isn't too bad, and if we can avoid detection. You think you're up to a hike like that?"

Leia was already pushing herself up, still upset that she had almost completely missed Mical-Raee's reference to other aircraft. "What was I thinking?" she muttered to herself. "I should have listened to her, gone with her. I may have missed something important." She reached down to help Luke get Han to his feet, and just shook her head at their questioning glances. "Never mind," she said before they could ask. "Let's just get moving and see if we can find them—whoever they are."


	7. Chapter 7

**Going Solo**

**Chapter 7**

The weary trio trudged slowly up the rest of the corridor, gradually emerging into dim light. "Must be evening," Han whispered. "Luke, can you sense anyone around? Seems like the guards or someone ought to be looking for us by now." Luke concentrated, even as they edged carefully forward. "Nope. Nothing, no one so far. Maybe the doc and Wiens gave orders not to be disturbed. Anyway, let's keep going until we run into someone." Luke cast outward with his force sense and frowned, trying to locate whatever presence he had felt earlier. "That way," he indicated after a few seconds. "West. Don't know for sure how far, or exactly who it is, but they're that direction." With Luke kand Leia supporting Han on either side, they made their way slowly through the dense underbrush.

"Are they at least alone, not with anyone from the Empire or any Avayans?" Leia wanted to know. "No one from the Empire," Luke replied. "Not sure about the Avayans, though. For some reason it's not easy for me to get a read on them."

It was hard going, even for the two less injured members of the party. For Solo, it was pure hell. Even though the stimulant in his system kept him moving, as it began to lose its effectiveness, his legs wanted to give out and he wasn't sure he could keep going much longer. His mind began to wander and after about 2 ½ kilometers, he seemed to lose track of reality. He began mumbling, and though he seemed to instinctively know he had to keep putting one foot in front of the other, he had no real idea why. Luke and the Princess exchanged worried glances, but relentlessly kept them moving; realizing that if Han collapsed, they would be hard pressed to carry him and still make any speed.

After what seemed an unreasonable amount of time, Luke finally called a halt. They helped Han sit down, leaning him against a tree. "I think the stim must be wearing off," Luke said, as Han's head lolled back and his eyes closed. "He seems pretty out of it." When there was no snappy comeback from the Corellian, Leia had to agree. "Now what do we do? I don't know if we can carry him."

"Hopefully, we won't have to. I can sense some people just over the next ridge. You stay here, guard Han. I'm going to go check it out." Before Leia could offer more than a token protest, Luke darted out of sight. Sighing, she said down by Han, and put her hand to his forehead. "Fever. Not that that's a surprise," she murmured to herself. "Why can't things ever be easy." Knowing she had to stay alert and keep watch, Leia opened the doctor's bag and grabbed a bottle full of water. Unscrewing the cap, she took several swallows, then returned it, not wanting to use it all in case help was further away than Luke thought. Not knowing what else to do, she eased back, keeping herself from leaning against either Han or the tree, so she would stay awake. Her thoughts couldn't help turning toward Han; she didn't want to admit to herself just how worried she was. Deciding she'd better check his wound again, she carefully unwound the bandaging.

During the process, Han's body went completely slack, and he slumped over, ending up in a heap on the ground. Leia knew he'd be little or no help to them for a long while. Though glad he was finally out of pain for the moment, she couldn't help her worry about him, and how they would move him. Shifting his torso until he was more or less lying flat on his back, she unwrapped the rest of the bandage, and hissed as she saw how much worse it had gotten in the hours they had been moving. His arm was swollen, with obvious red streaks that went up the veins, toward his heart. The wound itself was full of a nasty yellow discharge and had a foul stench. Leia knew if it went untreated much longer, Han was in danger of losing his arm—or his life. Trying to blink back tears of frustration, she cleaned his arm again, and started applying more of the rapidly dwindling supply of antibiotic cream. Han began to moan and toss his head, muttering incoherently.

She stopped momentarily to smooth his sweat soaked hair back from his feverish forehead. Leia had long ago faced the fact that her feelings for the Corellian Captain had become something beyond mere friendship. She knew part of it was due to his value to the Rebel Alliance, which included more than his incredible piloting skills. She knew he was one of the best leaders they had. Personnel just naturally wanted to follow Han; he had that natural leadership ability that she knew was rare. So she acknowledged that part of her attraction to him was due to all of that. But there was more. She felt more alive and whole when she was with Han than at any other time. Though she would never admit this to anyone, especially not the smug pilot, she knew it was true.

Leia's thoughts couldn't help going to the first time she had met the swaggering Corellian. His disbelief when she had first confronted him, coupled with her admiration for his courage when he had faced a complete squad of Stormtroopers (and lived to brag about it), had warred in her imagination with the memory of how attractive she had found him. She remembered ordering him into the garbage chute and her surprise at herself when she had turned to him immediately following their close call with the walls of that same compartment. And she couldn't help but recall her elation when she realized he had returned to help them defeat the death star. It seemed sometimes that his future was tied inexorably to her own, but she couldn't figure out how that as possible. Between the death mark on Han and her own political responsibilities, she was convinced they would never have an opportunity to pursue whatever it was they seemed to share.

That was the main reason the Princes continued to hold Solo at arm's length. She couldn't imagine letting herself fully explore these feelings, only to lose the man to some bounty hunter, or watch him leave when he wasn't willing to commit to her lifestyle and ideals. Of course, the fact that he was arrogant, irritating, vain, irresponsible, conceited, immature and reckless beyond belief made this decision easier.

Leia hadn't realized she had completely stopped working on Solo's injury and had instead sat down and pulled the unconscious man into her arms, continuing to try and soothe him as he became more and more restless. Han's head was tossing back and forth and he was murmuring things that made no sense. "Easy, Captain. I've got you. You're safe now," she whispered to him. As she listened, she heard him call her name, then Luke's: "Look out. Keep going; don't let them hurt her. Luke!" Leia couldn't stop the tears that refused to slow as she realized he was reliving their recent days of captivity. "Han. Han!" she called to him more urgently now. "It's ok, I'm here, Luke's ok. Please, Han, be still. You're hurting yourself."

Leia risked a glance at his wound, and was horrified to see the amount of blood oozing out. She knew she had to finish treating it and get it re-wrapped. Speaking more sharply than she wanted to, she took hold of Han's good shoulder and shook him. "Solo. Stop it. Be still, you're hurting yourself." Han finally responded to her sharper tone and his eyes flew open. "Wha…? What's goin' on?"

"You passed out, that's what's going on," Leia said. "Now please, hold still. I'm trying to help you." For his sake, Leia managed to stop crying and tried to lighten her tone, asking him how he really felt. When he didn't respond to her question, she glanced at his face, and saw he was struggling not to moan and had his lips pressed too tightly together to be able to speak. Sighing, she went back to work finishing the cleaning, and re-wrapping of his arm. "I wonder what's keeping Luke, seems like he should be back by now," she murmured as she finished.

"Luke? Where'd he go?" Han wanted to know, rousing slightly and struggling to raise up on his right elbow, and look around. Leia gently pushed him down again, and admonished, "Stop it Han. You need to rest while you can. I think the stim has worn off. You were out cold for awhile. Luke went on ahead; he thinks someone is up there." Solo let his head fall back and closed his eyes again. "Someone friendly, I hope," he muttered. They didn't talk much after that. Han dozed off and on, and Leia kept watch, still mulling over in her mind her confusing feelings about the Captain. She was so tired that she eventually decided she would deal with her thoughts later, if, no _**when**_, they were rescued and she could get some sleep.

Another hour or so passed, and then Luke came back, looking grim, and shaking his head. "There's someone up there all right, and I saw evidence of an Alliance shuttle, but it isn't there now. But that woman, Mical-Ray, or whatever her name is, she's there with an army of women. And they look to be hunting for something—or someone. I'm afraid I can guess who."

Han roused enough to listen in as Luke and Leia discussed the current situation. Leia was adamant that she should go and confront Mical-Raee and see once and for all what her offer was. Luke was just as convinced that he should be the one to deal with the Avayan woman and try and learn when and where the Alliance ship had been seen and where it might be now. After listening to the two of them argue back and forth, Han decided they sounded like his younger brother and sister had sounded years ago. He clamped down tightly on the emotions just thinking about his family caused and just as Luke turned his head toward him, having picked up on Han's emotional upheaval, called out, "Enough!"

Startled, Leia quickly checked him over, asking "Han? What is it? Are you hurting? What's wrong?" "I'm sick of your bickering. That's what's wrong," he replied, levering himself up on his elbow and struggling to a sitting position. Pausing to catch his breath, he shook his head. "You sound like kids. We'll all go. Let's just go scope out the situation and handle it like we always do." Leia stood, and put her hands on her hips as Luke helped Solo to his feet. "Oh? And just how do we 'always' handle things, Captain?" she asked irritably. Han managed go throw a mischievous grin her direction. "Why, perfectly, your highness—just perfectly. At least when you listen to me, it always turns out right."

Luke shook his head and took Solo's right arm over his shoulder. "You really know how to irritate her, don't you?" With that, Leia picked up the medical bag, checked the blaster at her hip and sighing, followed the two men as they headed toward whatever was waiting for them.

About a half an hour later, Luke called a halt, having been following his force-enhanced instincts to bring them close to the hunting party. "They're just over the next hill—I can feel them." Solo rolled his eyes, not wanting to think about exactly how Luke knew that. "Great kid," he intoned. "Now can you 'feeeell' them all falling asleep and making this easy for us?" Luke gave his friend an exasperated glare and just shook his head, not even bothering to answer. He helped Han slide down to a sitting position, and whispered, "I'm going on ahead, you two stay here," and he started off on his own. Leia was in the process of making sure Han was settled, but she quickly abandoned him, and hurried after Luke. "Wait," she stage whispered, ignoring Han's indignant call of "Hey!" as she abruptly dropped the medical bag at his feet. "Figures," Han said, and though he pretended he wasn't worried, he immediately started getting himself back on his feet, intending to head after them.

A few seconds later, he froze, halfway up as he heard what could only be described as an evil laugh from somewhere behind him. "I knew if I left the others looking for you, I'd find you myself. Those women—they think they know so much." Han gulped, finished straightening up and turned to face the one person he'd hoped never to see again. Simms. And the doctor looked even more insane than ever.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Only one more chapter to go after this one. It's been quite a ride for our heroes. I appreciate all the reviews and those who have marked my story for alert, etc. Your kind comments make me want to get right to work on the next one. _

_I am not a medical professional of any kind, and all of the medical descriptions come straight out of my imagination. If you are looking for medical accuracy in this one, you are reading the wrong story. _

_As always, none of the characters, except those who are original to the story, belong to me. I would love it if they did – especially Solo – I'd love to comfort him anytime! _

_Enjoy! _

**Going Solo**

**Chapter 8**

Luke sensed Leia behind him, and stopped to wait for her. "Do you think it's really a good idea to leave Solo on his own?" he asked. "You know him," Leia replied. "He'll probably get into trouble no matter what we do. We might as well try and take out the competition while he's more or less incapacitated; it might be easier on all of us that way." Luke started to shake his head, and then stopped, realizing he'd been doing a lot of that lately. "I think that's Mical-Raee, over there," he pointed at a woman in the distance, who, though smaller than all of the other women involved in the search, was obviously the one in charge. She was standing on a slight rise, overlooking all of the women warriors and giving direction to several who came to her. Leia stared at her for a moment and then made a decision. "I'm going to go talk to her. Stay here, and see if you can pick anything up through the force." Without waiting for a reply, Leia strode off quickly, ignoring Luke's anxious, "Leia, wait!"

The Princess approached the other woman fearlessly, realizing it would be best to confront her boldly. Mical-Raee was obviously a leader and would recognize that in her peer. Leia watched as the Avayan woman seemed to sense her presence and turned to watch her advance. Leia inclined her head respectfully and waited to be acknowledged. "Leia," said Mical-Raee. "You may approach. Are you ready to discuss my offer?" Luke, watching from a distance, was amazed that the other leader seemed so willing to ignore the fact that the prisoners had escaped, and that she had been almost frantic to have this discussion with Leia earlier.

Leia smiled slightly and replied, "Possibly. It depends entirely on what you are offering. As you can see," and here, Leia deliberately pulled her blaster out and aimed it carefully at the Avayan. "Our situation has changed somewhat." Mical-Raee's eyes widened slightly; then she indicated with a gracious sweep of her hand that Leia obviously had the advantage. "Yes, I see. However, I believe I still have something valuable to offer you. I have done some research since our last meeting and believe I understand better what your customs are. Though they are difficult for me to fathom, I have come to realize you truly do value your men, not just as slaves, but as counterparts. Perhaps we can reach a mutually acceptable agreement." With that, she looked over Leia's head, obviously searching for her companions.

Luke had the taken the opportunity to conceal himself with the force. He was even now stealthily approaching Leia and her adversary, though neither of them realized it. Had he not been using the force to keep close to Leia, he would probably have noticed Han's sudden rise of fear and dread, but as it was, Han's plight went unnoticed. Leia did not turn her head to see where Luke might be, trusting that he would be close by should she need him. Indeed, the Rebel leader knew that both Luke and Han would back her up in any way she needed. Leia paused for moment, hoping they had done the right thing in leaving Han on his own. She knew he would hate that, but figured he was safer away from the action. Something fleetingly vied for her attention when she thought of Han, almost as if she could feel him calling out to her, but she dismissed it as simply being her over active imagination and once again she turned her attention toward Mical-Raee.

Han swallowed when he saw that the insanity had obviously overridden any other emotion the doctor might have exhibited. He made a show of rubbing his wounded arm, hunching over slightly, and surreptitiously reached inside his sling, grasping the vibro-blade Leia had left him, before fully facing Simms. Deciding as always to go on the offensive, Han arrogantly raised his head and managed to look almost regal as he snarled at the man. He was surprised to realize that Simms was a small man; somehow when he'd been tormenting Han, he has seemed much larger.

"Well? What are you waiting for? If you're going to kill me, get on with it." His fingers tightened on the blade, and he placed his thumb over the "on" switch, waiting for the best opportunity to activate it and hopefully hurl it at Simms before he could realize what was happening. Simms continued to simply stare at the wounded Corellian before shaking his head, as if to clear it. "It won't be that easy, Solo. I will kill you, but I'll make you suffer first. And I'll make you watch as I kill your friends in front of you; you must be made to feel what I felt when my family died." Simms raised his blaster, and made a show of thumbing it to heavy stun. "Think about that when you wake up."

He pointed the weapon at Han and fired, a split second after Solo punched the on switch for the vibro-blade and yanked it out of his sling. Taking a precious milli-second to aim it toward Simm's gun hand, figuring he had a better chance of disabling him, rather than killing him, Han didn't quite duck in time, just barely managing to miss the full brunt of the blaster fire. He released the blade, flinging it desperately toward the doctor, even as he dived toward his right, throwing himself toward the ground, hoping the blaster beam wasn't set to wide angle. For once, luck was with him. He felt the edges of the beam lick at his left side, and felt numbness start to settle over that side of his body. He even had a moment to reflect that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, given how painful his injuries were.

Solo watched in panic as he saw Simms swipe at the blade that only grazed his arm, knocking it to the ground without disarming him, and figured he had blown his one chance. Simms' countenance changed to pure rage, as he snarled "Enough! I'm going to kill you now!" Turning his insane eyes toward him, he pointedly changed the setting on his blaster to kill. Han sent one desperate thought winging toward Leia: "I'm sorry!" and waited for his death at the hand of the mad Corellian facing him. Then all hell broke loose right in front of him, and all he could do was ungallantly try to scramble out of the way, hampered as he was by both his bad ribs and his rapidly numbing side.

Leia waited until the other woman gave up looking for her friends then climbed up the small rise to stand next to her, keeping her blaster pointed directly at her. "I'm tired of playing games. Tell me, right now, exactly what you are offering, or we have nothing left to discuss." Leia did her best to keep the dislike she continued to feel for the beautiful alien woman in front of her, at bay, but could not resist directing a disdainful sneer at her. Mical-Raee considered her opponent for only a moment before letting her shoulders slump slightly, and giving into a huge sigh. "Please, lower your weapon. You have nothing to fear from me." With that, the Avayan made a gesture at the nearest female guard, who immediately waved everyone else away. They all fell back a short distance and stopped their searching. As soon as Leia lowered her blaster slightly, the other woman continued.

"When the Empire arrived, they made all kinds of promises; promises that of course we realize now they had no intention of keeping. Our world has fallen victim to a terrible disease—one the affects only our slaves. I know you have no understanding of this, but we used our men only for labor and for breeding purposes. Only the very best, the most handsome, strongest and the ones who showed some modicum of intelligence were used for the higher classes. When the illness struck, it took those we were most fond of, and coincidentally, those who were the best and brightest, first.

"The Empire promised to replace our men, with humans who were supposed to be superior to any males we had previously used, in return for conscripting those remaining few, who were the very strongest, into their military ranks. Though I did not trust them, I saw no alternative, and after consulting with my council of elders, I chose to offer my own personal slaves to the Empire, along with most of the rest of our men. The Empire simply used them up, and of course, did not replace them as we had been promised. They occasionally offered us a specimen from the ranks of the prisoners, but until you and your companions arrived, we saw none of real value.

"When I first began observing you and your two slaves, and saw how they not only seemed intelligent, but also willing to serve you so freely, I realized we had a chance to rebuild, if I could just make use of them, and perhaps bargain for others in the future. I must tell you, I fear you as I have feared no other, because I believe you single-handedly have the opportunity to destroy us, should you refuse to consider my request. Though at first I thought the smaller one of your men to be worthless, I realized after your escape that he is quite intelligent, if not as virile in appearance as your other slave.

"My offer, Mistress Leia, is quite simple. Your freedom for either one of your slaves. I would of course offer you anything you deem of value to keep both of them, but I have come to believe you won't part with both. I would prefer the larger one, as he seems both intelligent and is very well built. But either will do. In return, I will provide you with safe escort to a shuttle from your Alliance, and safe passage off of our world."

Leia could not help but gape in astonishment at what Mical-Raee was telling her. Though she had known the other woman obviously had an interest in Han and Luke, she hadn't dreamed it went so far as this. Leia heard a discrete cough behind her, and turned, refusing to show surprise when Luke seemed to materialize right in front of them. Mical-Raee, however, gasped and stepped back. "I knew it. I knew you had superior qualities that we have never seen before. In spite of your size, we will gladly take you. And even honor you—as, as if you were a woman."

Luke couldn't help but grin, never having heard such an offer before. "Sorry, Ma'am," he quipped, "But I'm not for sale. And I'm afraid my buddy isn't either. Though he's going to get a kick out of this…." Even as his voice trailed off, Luke threw his head up, sensing something terrible happening to Han, and took off at a dead run. Leia watched in stunned silence for only a moment, then cried out "Han!' and ran after Luke. Mical-Raee just shook her head, and slowly sank to the ground, realizing all her hopes had simply run away from her.

Han watched in astonishment as two of the Rogue Squadron pilots, Wedge Antilles and Jimmy Corker seemed to materialize out of thin air directly behind the insane doctor. Before Simms could raise his weapon for another discharge, Wedge hit his arm, knocking the blaster to the earth and Corker tackled the hapless man to the ground. A struggle ensued, and though Han wanted badly to help, he was held almost motionless on the ground. He did manage to scoot forward enough to grab the discarded blaster and holding it in a shaky hand, pointed it back toward Simms. Before he could even collect his thoughts, Luke burst onto the scene, followed by a whirlwind he vaguely recognized as Leia.

After that, Han never did remember exactly what happened, and no one would tell him. He remembered slowly lowering the blaster to the ground before he accidentally shot someone he didn't want to, and then gratefully giving into the darkness that seemed to start at a point somewhere far above his head, and gradually closed around him like a vice. The next hours and even days were a confusing jumble of events that he couldn't make any real sense of. He seemed to float in and out of consciousness, and he remembered times of horrific pain and fear, unlike any he'd experienced before, but nothing concrete. When he questioned his friends later, even Chewie would simply shake his massive head and say, "Some things are best forgotten." But all of these questions would surface later. For now, he was almost totally ignorant of the frantic efforts going on in an attempt to save his life.

After Han finally passed out, the rest of them finished subduing Simms and the few Avayan women who had ventured over. Ignoring one last plea from Mical-Raee, the Alliance party turned away from her, though Leia did feel sorry for the women of Avaya. However, she had little time to dwell on their situation at that time. The shuttle was close at hand and Wedge hurried ahead to retrieve an air stretcher to transport the injured Captain. Leia placed herself behind Han on the ground, holding him up to assist him with breathing, when he had started to cough and gag. Jimmy ran the portable mediscan over him, and had shaken his head. "Pneumonia. Not being helped any by these broken ribs. Keep him sitting up as much as possible, okay Princess?" Han wavered in and out of consciousness, sometimes arguing with those trying to help him, but most of the time, completely unaware of what was going on around him.

Luke waved Wedge and the stretcher over as soon as he caught sight of it and with a sigh turned to Han. "Hey buddy, we're going to lift you now, and get you out of here." Gently Leia started to disengage herself from behind Han in order to help lift him. Han though, being Han, chose that moment to have a moment of lucidity, and stubbornly began insisting he could get to his feet without help. Luke just shook his head and watched patiently as Han tried to get from a sitting position to his feet. He didn't make it any farther than being up on one knee, hunched over and holding his side before he finally gave up and lifted his weary head, wordlessly asking for help. Wedge and the other pilot gently lifted Han off the cold ground and onto the floating stretcher, and covered him with two thermal blankets.

Han's right hand began restlessly picking at the thermal blanket that covered him, and before Leia realized what she was doing, she reached over and picked it up in her own hand. She was alarmed at both the heat coming from Han and his weakened grasp as he tried to return her reassuring squeeze. He did seem less restless however, as long as she kept contact. She was grateful no one made any smart remarks about a Princess holding a smuggler's hand. However, as she watched the gentle way the pilots guided Han's stretcher, she realized that he had won their respect and admiration and there would be no negative remarks.

As soon as they got close to the shuttle, Jimmy raced ahead, and lowered the shuttle's ramp. They brought Solo immediately to the small medical bay, where he was gently transferred from the stretcher to the diagnostic bed. Han didn't make a sound, but simply closed his eyes and tightened his hold on Leia's hand, which he seemed reluctant to release. She decided that was fine with her and stayed by his side, holding his hand and stroking his arm as Luke turned the bed on, programmed in Han's medical record identification and started reading the printout the med-i-puter spit out.

"Wedge," Luke looked up, "would you get the IV ready? The 'puter says to use Mixture A/C and give it full strength." Leia closed her eyes, knowing that wasn't a good sign. Han was notorious for not responding well to antibiotics and this was an older medicine that had worked for him in the past, but worked very slowly. "Luke," she asked quietly. "Why the A/C? Isn't there something stronger on board?" "Yes," Luke replied slowly, still studying the printout, "but he had a pretty bad reaction to the other one we have on board the last time it was used. I'm guessing it isn't a good mix with his lungs already filling up. At least we have A/C in full strength." Wedge handed the IV bag over to Leia, who hooked it up to the holder above Han's head."

"Han," Luke said, gently grasping his right shoulder, "I'm going to start the IV now, as soon as I get your arm cleaned up a little." Luke was gently wiping at the blood and grime that had clung to Han, clearing a spot just inside his right elbow. Han barely seemed to hear him, but he did open his eyes when Leia gently withdrew her hand from his in order to help hold his arm still. Han grunted slightly as Luke inserted the needle into a vein. Fortunately, finding a good vein on Han had never been a real problem, though usually he fought against needles as if he was a child.

That done, Luke turned back to the med-i-puter readout and slowly shook his head. He looked up at Leia, who saw stark fear in his eyes. "Leia," he motioned with his head for her to step away from the bed. "He's in bad shape, really bad shape. The 'puter wants us to do emergency surgery on his arm. It's so badly infected, the recommendation is we do surgery and cut away the dead tissue, or even consider amputation to keep the blood poisoning from spreading. We can't start bacta treatment yet, there's too much infected tissue. It would kill him. I don't know what to do."

All the occupants of the shuttle turned to look at the wounded man, concern and even stark fear showing on their faces. "What's going to happen to him?" Leia replied in a soft voice, filled with shock and dread. "I don't think I can bear another loss like Alderan…." Luke was the only one close enough to hear her, and he filed away her statement to consider later; wondering if she realized she equated Han's worth to her with Alderan. "I don't know, Leia," he repeated. "I just don't know."


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N – and so another harrowing experience draws to a close for our intrepid heroes. It has been a fun experience for me, exploring the various ways 'poor, poor Han' can be injured, but even more so, in examining the relationship dynamics between the characters. I truly enjoy writing about their growing and changing friendship and their close bonds, more than anything else. _

_A note regarding the medical happenings of this chapter—I realize what I put poor Han through is undoubtedly totally unnecessary—but it is just how I like to write. So all the medical errors are completely mine. __**This chapter is a bit graphic, so you are warned.**_

_A final note of apology for taking so long to finish this story: when I first started writing it, it was for my own enjoyment only and I had no intention of actually posting it. (In fact, I had started this one prior to my first story.) But I had such great fun with my previous story "__The Way It Should Be__," and got so addicted to the reviews, that I just couldn't resist posting the first few chapters of "__Going Solo__" before I had finished it. However, real life got quite complicated for a time and I was simply unable to devote any time to writing. _

_Things have settled down now and I have already started on my next story called "__Once Upon A Rebellion__." Hopefully, it will go much faster. And I promise, I won't publish the first chapter until the story is complete, because I hate it when other authors do what I did—start a story and seemingly never finish it. Again, thank you so much to all who read and reviewed this story and marked it for alerts, etc. Like all authors, I'm a glutton for reviews. More will make me want to finish the next story sooner. _

_And now, please enjoy the final chapter of "__Going Solo__."_

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**Going Solo**

**Chapter 9**

Leia was horrified. She didn't know if Han could stand up to surgery, especially in these conditions and without a fully equipped medical unit available. She also knew what he would think if they even considered amputation seriously. Her hand flew to her mouth to stop the cry she felt coming on, not wanting Han to hear. But she should have known by now that he was somehow in tune with them, especially after all they'd been through on this particular trip. Han's eyes focused on Leia and he managed to slightly raise his head. "Hey," he called weakly, "What's goin' on? What 'er you two whispering 'bout?"

With a sigh, Luke moved back over to Han's side. "All right Solo, here it is. Your arm is really messed up. You have a raging infection and blood poisoning has set in and is spreading fast. The med-i-puter wants us to do emergency surgery, or…" and here Luke's voice trailed off as he met Leia's eyes. "Or what?" Solo demanded flatly. "Or consider, um, partial amputation," Luke told him soberly. "Now wait," he continued, as he saw Han's sudden agitation. "We haven't decided to go cutting your arm off yet, so don't panic. I'm just not sure about surgery in this setting either."

"What happens if you don't do the surgery?" Han asked. With another sigh, Luke replied, "Then you're at a much higher risk for either losing the arm later, or, or, well. . ." but he couldn't seem to finish the thought. "For not makin' it at all?" Han asked, and then gave a slight, but firm, nod. "Well, then, kid, you better do the surgery, 'cause ain't no one takin' my arm, not now, not later. If that's my only choice, then let's just get on with it." Han's voice was still weak, but the firmness in it was unmistakable.

"It's not that simple, Solo," Wedge put in, from where he'd been studying the printouts after Luke had moved over by Han's bedside. "We don't have the right anesthesia on board for the kind of surgery this is recommending. What we've got would knock you completely out, and that won't work. Your lungs won't take it. With your respirations so low, you'd be dead before you were out an hour." Wedge must have known his words were blunt, but he also knew how to get through to the hard headed Captain, being Corellian himself. "And there's the matter of blood loss. Standard surgery would take too long; you'd bleed too much, and you can't afford to lose any more blood. We've got enough synth-plasma for one transfusion, but that won't be enough. You need that now, and there wouldn't be any left for during and after surgery."

For the first time Leia saw what looked like panic in Solo's eyes as he searched their faces, the gravity of the situation bringing him to full awareness. "So, you're saying there ain't nothin' to be done? 'Cause you ain't takin' the arm, and besides, if I'd bleed to death with a simple surgery, then I'd bleed to death a whole lot faster if you cut my arm off." His voice rose in pitch with each word and Leia had never seen quite that look on Han's face before. He started to breathe faster, obviously distressed, not that anyone blamed him.

"Now hold on Han," Luke said. "I know you don't want to consider amputation, but I, I could. . ." Luke closed his eyes and steadied himself before going on. "I could use my saber, and it would cauterize the wound. You wouldn't bleed much at all. Han, before you say anything, I know they're doing wonders with artificial limbs. You'd be as good as new, maybe better." Leia looked shocked at Luke's suggestion, both because of the possibility of Han losing his arm, and the terrible burden it would put on Luke if he had to perform such an act on his best friend.

"No." Han's voice was toneless, but there was absolutely no doubt in what he meant. "Han, come on, I know it's hard, but I can't stand by and just let you die." Luke's voice was anguished. "No." Han just said again. "I couldn't live with it, and I don't know if you could either. Don't do it Luke, even if I pass out—promise me, you won't. Promise." Han turned fearful eyes toward his friend, even though he had to have sensed Luke's indecision.

"Han," Leia finally broke the silence. "I won't let Luke do anything that isn't absolutely necessary. You know we wouldn't do anything to let more harm come to you. Please, you have to trust us. Please."

Han turned his face toward the wall and seemed to gather himself. When he turned back, his eyes looked almost lifeless. "No." And in that moment Leia knew he didn't just mean, 'No, don't take my arm.' She knew he meant, 'No, I can't trust you yet.' And it broke her heart. She knew Han was used to feeling alone, like he had to watch out for himself, since in his experience, no one else had, with the exception of his life-bonded partner. And Chewie wasn't here. More than once since meeting Han, she had found his name "Solo" to be more than apt. But now she found she wanted this man to trust them—specifically to trust her, more than anything she'd wanted since she wished Alderan still existed. They stared at each other for a long moment waiting out the silence. Finally Leia broke eye contact first.

"All right, Han," she said. "I promise." "Promise what, exactly, Leia?" he demanded. She closed my eyes and sighed. "I promise, Han, we won't take your arm." "Even if it means I might not make it?" he pressed. "Even if...even if you," she found she couldn't finish the sentence, but nodded at him, with her eyes full of unshed tears. "Even if . . . you, even if that; oh Han. Please?" she whispered.

"You promise?" Han insisted again. She could only nod and grasp his hand. "You heard her, Han," Luke managed to choke out, his voice harsh. "You heard her. Don't make it worse." Han looked at both of them then, full in the face. Suddenly Leia realized anew what an incredible strength of will this man had. And in wonder, she also realized the distrustful, closed expression was now missing from his eyes.

"All right then," he said, his voice more relaxed. "I'll make ya' a deal. If I can stay aware, not pass out, while you do the surgery, then I'll make the decision about my arm. If I really won't live until we reach base, then I'll let Luke do his thing with the saber. And if I pass out, I, I'll," he heaved a huge sigh, and pain settled over his features once more, "I'll trust you to make the right decision," he muttered in a low voice. "I don't really wanna' die. But the alliance will owe me one hell of an arm, if it comes to that."

Wedge had been listening and observing, all the while studying the medical printouts and entering some data. "Um," he cleared his throat. "I have an idea. We could use the laser cutter to do the surgery. That way, it would be a lot quicker and shouldn't result in as much blood loss. I checked with the 'puter and it agrees." Wedge glanced up quickly, and then back down, his voice quiet and subdued. "Of course, it won't really hurt any less, but, Han," he looked at the Captain, "You should be able to keep your arm. It might not look like much when we get through, but the techs should be able to repair most of the damage when we get home. We just need to get the infection knocked down before it spreads through your system. That's the real danger, as I understand it." They all looked at each other and then at Han. He had hope in his eyes again, and nodded his agreement. Only Luke had noticed his reaction when Wedge had uttered the words, 'when we get home.' Han's features had softened just a little, and Luke had felt an upsurge of emotions directly tied to the word. The young Jedi wondered how long it had been since Solo had felt like he even had a home. Filing the information away to think about more later, Luke patted Solo'

"Right, then, let's get the A9 unit on line, he's the med droid on board this shuttle. He'll have the steadiest arm, he'll have to do the surgery; that is, if I don't get to use my saber," Luke managed a small joke, grinning slightly in Han's direction. Wedge left, saying he'd get the med droid up and running and start running the program details from the med-i-puter to its sensors.

Luke checked on the printouts and started gathering medical supplies, including some potent pain pills. "Here Han, even though we can't knock you out, take these. There's no reason for you to hurt more than you have to." Han didn't even argue, just raised his head and swallowed the pills, followed by a small sip of water to wash them down. After a few minutes, he gave us a grateful glance as the pills began to take effect. Even though the pain still came through, the edge was dulled and he even began to drift off into a restless sort of sleep. Sometime during the sort of twilight sleep he was experiencing, he must have realized the shuttle had taken off.

"Hey," he croaked out through his dry lips, without even opening his eyes, "We in hyperspace now? How long 'til base?" "Yeah Hotshot," Leia smiled at him. "We're on our way. Those Rogue pilots managed to start this thing without you, isn't that amazing? We should reach base in a standard day, give or take a few hours," Leia stayed by his side, still holding his hand and stroking the hair back from his hot forehead. Han just managed a slight nod before drifting off again.

They were all sorry when the respite from his intense pain came to a quick end when Luke gently lifted his arm and place it on a stack of pillows, preparatory to the A9 unit's ministrations. Luke began unwinding the bandages, and using some antiseptic cloths, he cleaned the terrible wound as much as possible. Han was soon gasping with the pain, and flailed out with his right hand again, unconsciously reaching toward Leia. She was sure he wouldn't show his need if he had been completely aware, and was only too glad to oblige, taking his hand in both of hers and letting him squeeze tight in his pain.

Luke paused, wiped sweat from Han's face, and then from his own before asking Han if he wanted a break before they started on his arm. Han's eyes flew open; he must have forgotten what they were set to do. "Nah, just get it done . . . can't take . . mch. . more…" both Luke and Leia were startled and worried as Han's voice trailed off. They all realized he probably didn't know he'd voiced those last sentiments aloud. When Luke gave the nod, Wedge moved over to steady Han's arm. Han closed his eyes as he heard the laser cutter activated and tried to brace himself for what he knew was next.

There was nothing; however that could have prepared him for the agony of the cutter slicing into the flesh of his lower arm. Before he even realized it, he had cried out in his agony and couldn't contain the groans of pain as the A9 unit kept slicing away at the tissue.

Han was unable to keep from jerking his arm as the first cut was made into the infected tissue. Wedge sighed and placed his hands firmly around the wounded man's arm, keeping it from moving again. This time, though, it was just too much for Han to bear. He began struggling against Wedge, and continued his moaning and muttering. Leia could see he had finally lost his grip on reality. He must have wondered why they were torturing him. They all heard bits and pieces of his ramblings, even as A9 relentlessly kept on cutting away at his flesh. "No, ahh, please, don't, I can't, make them stop. Leia? Where are you? Ahh, I can't, uh, no, Leia. No, don't. . ." Tears streamed down Leia's face and she didn't know who was more relieved when Han suddenly stiffened and cried out once more before going limp and mercifully passing out; her or Wedge and Luke.

A9?" she queried, realizing the droid had paused. "Is something more wrong? What's taking so long?"

"Princess," the droid replied in his flat, prim voice, just before again bending to his task, "the infection is quite severe and has gone deeply into the muscle tissue. If you wish this human to have full use of the arm, I need to make sure I get all of it now, or it will spread to the bone and do irreparable damage." Leia almost smiled at the understated reprimand in the A9's tone, to be questioned by a "mere" human! If it hadn't been so serious she would have. She could just imagine Han's disgusted snort at being referred to as 'this human.' He hated being talked about, rather than talked to.

Finally, the A9 unit seemed satisfied and announced they could close and bandage the wound. This time Leia did the honors, since Han was beyond needing to hold onto her. As she carefully wrapped the wound, she was taken aback at how much tissue A9 had removed. Han was left with a huge crater in his arm, with bone showing in several areas and she knew he wasn't going to be happy when he saw it.

After that, the A9 gave instructions on treating the rest of the Corellian's injuries, binding his ribs tightly and using the regenerator on some of his more serious bruises and cuts. Through it all, Solo remained unconscious, and they all rather hoped he would remain so for the remainder of the trip.

No such luck, he began stirring within just a few short hours. Luke and Leia had both taken a rest in one of the shuttles' small bunks, after cleaning up and being treated for their own cuts and bruises and eating their first decent meal in days (if one could call shuttle rations decent. However, as soon as Jimmy announced Han was wakening, they both rose and went to his side. Wedge had gone to the cockpit to make sure the hyperspace calculations were correct and that they were on the shortest possible route back to base.

Han remained very feverish, in spite of the IV drip and the fact his wounds were now at least clean. While his temperature hadn't risen any, neither had it dropped and it was all too evident by his labored breathing that the pneumonia had not begun to clear at all either. Soon he was moaning and coughing, holding his side with every rasping cough. He didn't even ask how things had gone, nor did he protest when Luke offered him two more potent pain pills.

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. Han drifted in and out of awareness, at times he was lucid enough to carry on a conversation; at other times he moaned pitifully and cried out in his agony. Sometimes he would call out in terror, trying to find Leia if he was caught in his fevered dreams and thinking she was lost or hurt. Sometimes he just clung to her hand and let the Princess soothe him with soft words and even softer caresses. If she hadn't already begun to lose her heart to this Corellian pirate, she was hopelessly headed that way by the time they finally neared base. At times, she wondered what Luke thought about it, but he seemed either unaware of the softening Leia showed the Captain, or he put it down to her general concern.

Of course, it wouldn't be until much later, after the eventful happenings on Bespin and Endor that Leia would begin to realize Luke was already sensing that their relationship would never be romantic.

When they came within system and dropped out of hyperspace, Wedge immediately sent a coded transmission to the base, alerting them of the medical emergency. Therefore, it was no surprise to anyone when they landed and opened the shuttle ramp and the first voice heard was a frantic Wookie roar. Chewbacca came on board as they were placing Han on the floating stretcher again, and immediately honked and barked in Han's direction. They had assumed Han was unconscious again, as he had made little sound during moving him, but realized they were wrong when he opened his eyes and managed a weak, half hearted grin toward his long time friend. He raised a weary right arm and grasped Chewie's fir as he gasped out, "Hey, don't get your fir in a knot fuzzball, I'm okay. They took good care of me."

Even though Leia's understanding of the Wookie language was limited, she had no trouble interpreting Chewie's bark. He didn't believe Han for a second. Han just closed his eyes and drew Chewie closer to him, raising his head slightly to tell his life bonded friend. "Yeah, well, listen pal, just make sure they don't take off anything I can't live without, you got that?" And with that, Han sank back down and once again, gave up his tenacious hold on reality.

The next hours were awful. Han was rushed immediately to the surgery suite and the updates received periodically were not encouraging. They couldn't get his temperature down, they couldn't find an anesthetic they could use without depressing his lung function too much, and they couldn't find a way to boost the antibiotics. When they finally were able to begin surgery, it was a tedious and dangerous process. Luke, Chewie and Leia, along with at least half of Rogue and Red Squadrons kept vigil together. Leia was exhausted and could not contemplate what how empty her life might become if she lost Han now, just when she had begun to realize how very much she cared for him.

After the long, harrowing wait the doctors finally came out and give them their first bit of hope in hours. Han had come close to death, way too close but his famous, or infamous Corellian luck seemed to have held once again. Though his recovery would be slow and he was still in grave danger, especially from the pneumonia, the doctors felt he could make a full recovery.

Two days later, after staying by his bedside almost constantly, Leia awakened from a light doze to see his very confused eyes studying her. "Hey," she said gently, smiling and grasping his hand, "Welcome back Flyboy. How are you feeling?" "Uh," Han managed to force just the one small sound past his dry throat before a cough overtook him. "Here, have a drink," and she held the straw up to his lips and encouraged him to sip the water cautiously. After just a few sips, Han seemed completely exhausted, but before he gave in to sleep, he demanded to know how his arm was. Leia was beyond happy to be able to assure him that his arm was fine, and even though he'd need more surgery later and extensive physical therapy, he'd have full use of all of his 'original equipment.'

Another two days passed before he was awake and aware enough to ask questions and of course, being Han, to start arguing with the doctors and droids regarding his care. They knew he was going to be fine when he started trying his usual tricks. He opened his eyes one afternoon and moaned piteously. Moving in close, after glancing at their friends gathered in his room, Leia asked him what he needed, and his response gladdened her heart, even as her frustration level rose a notch. "I think, I think…I need resuscitation again. How about a little mouth to mouth?" he quipped, even as he managed a wink at her and pursed his lips, making smacking noises. "Oooooh! You, you, Corellian!" she sputtered at him, and then surprised all of them when she leaned in and gave him a very un-princess-like kiss.

"Well Solo," the doctor quipped from the door where he was leaning, having stopped by to check on his patient. "Looks like you're feeling better. If you need some help there, I'll be glad to assist you." Han pulled away from Leia just long enough to answer, "Nope, we're doin' fine. This is one time I don't mind going solo!" And with that he pulled Leia back into his arms, ignoring the IV and tubes and finished the kiss she had started.


End file.
